Boxes

          The laundry was finished and folded, the dishes done (for the first time in ages), her iTunes collection complete at last with album art and each song was accurately rated with the amount of stars she thought it earned – though it was a shame half-stars couldn't be allotted. She loved that new dubstep pop remix of her favorite screamo band covering Katy Perry more than three but was it really worth four? Now, she just had to do what she had been meaning to do since she'd woken up. The boxes sat right underfoot in the entry way, looking cozy as though they had certainly been making themselves comfortable. She checked her watch. Sato would be over soon, hopefully baring his promised gifts of beer for himself and wine for her.

          She began arranging then rearranging the boxes in front of the living room couch. No need to actually get started just yet, she thought. With him only a short walk away it wasn't like she would get anything done and then- BZZRRRR. Her phone rattled itself off of the tiny wooden coffee table and into her outstretched hand. “Gotcha!” She flipped it open checking the text alerting her Sato had arrived and tossed the boxes aside to let him in. The small chat was impossibly small but they had grown used to that. Every few nights he would show up with random take out food and they would eat and find some way to lose themselves in each others company enough to be glad they weren't alone. They would even pretend from time to time to sort through her things, to get rid of the pictures, borrowed clothes, and burnt CD's but until that night she had been avoiding it. No longer though, it was time to get on task. Once they had eaten, anyway. She opened the door to an empty handed Sato.

          “Where's the food?” She demanded. He shrugged off his scarf and undid his winter boots, waiting for his proper hello. “And you are getting settled. Well, please, help yourself but I don't have any food here. Put those back on!” Sato finally met her confused stare and grinned.

          “Hello. Weather's pleasant and it's no trouble at all. Really. How do you even get by surviving as oblivious as you are?” He shook his head as she began vocalizing complaints louder than necessary. She glared not liking how he was one of the few people who could actually stop her mid sentence. Because he did it with silence instead of forcing his words on top of hers. She folded her arms and let him lead her to her own kitchen. “Yea? And?”

          “Moody today.” He opened the fridge door and handed her a bottle of wine then the beer. “What did... What?” Turning to the cabinets he took two plates and began making spinach salad with fresh salmon. All with ingredients found in her own kitchen.

          “Where did you? Who put this food here!” He chuckled and motioned for her to start pouring the glasses. “The last time I was over here I brought groceries. I thought you noticed. But if I remember right here were knee deep in a book you found in one of the boxes. I believe that's as far into those things as we've gotten. That the plan again tonight?” She shoveled the salad down furious he had bothered with all this. And herself for not noticing. And her kitchen for always being so empty she never even thought to look there for food.

          “That's the plan.” She finished tossing the salad and grabbed a half empty vinaigrette something or other. “You know, you don't have to be here. They practically unpack themselves when you aren't around distracting me.” They took their glasses and plates and went to settle on the couch using the cardboard as footstools. It was the biggest lie she'd told since she'd explained to her previous boyfriend three months and twenty-two days ago that she never wanted to see him again. Sato was cat like in his presence. He sat and occupied himself with a book or sketching until it suited him to get up and leave. Distracting didn't even come close.

          He nodded, though, taking the barb. “I assumed. But the opportunity to both annoy you and set you back on a task is too much to waste.” She nodded quietly. Her mind was still a few months back.

Sato said nothing to steal her from the thoughts that were quickly painting themselves across her expression, just flicked the remote next to her after flipping the TV on. It was on Animal Planet, as always. Three glasses of wine and one show about human death and the rise of giant octopuses later she flicked the TV off, tossed a blanket over snoring Sato, and curled up on the other end of the couch. After a moment she unraveled herself and collected the boxes. The cardboard was beginning to cave in at places and had foot prints and heel indents on the tops. She shoved them into the closet by the kitchen, the empty one, and turned off the rest of the lights. Gathering a tattered old blanket with dolphin print she scooted next to Sato on the couch and drifted off.