“There’s the sofa,” Finn said, “you can sleep there.”
“Yeah, we’ve met,” Kieran remarked. He threw his backpack onto the sofa.
“Oh, I didn’t even notice you had a bag,” Finn said.
“Yeah, good thing, anyways.”
“Why, what’s in there?”
“Nothing much, just a sketchbook, really.”
“You‘re an artist?” Finn asked. Kieran was heading toward the sofa, and sat down.
“Yeah, why else would I be in the apartment with a studio?”
“The space?” Finn responded. Kieran was going through his bag.
“I’m gonna make some food,” Finn told him, “do you want some?”
“What is it?”
“Pasta, I think.”
“Sure.”
Finn headed out to the kitchen as Kieran withdrew his sketchbook. Finn pried open the cabinets, retrieving a pot and a box of pasta. He set the pasta down, filling the pot with water. He turned the stove on, sliding the pot on top of the burner.
As the water slowly heated, he returned to the cabinets, pulling out containers as he looked for the sauce. He set the glass jar down, and put the rest away. Next came the saucepan, which he sat down on the countertop. He poured the sauce in, and set it on another burner on low. Out of things to do as the water boiled, he checked on Kieran. Kieran was sat on the sofa, sketchbook on his legs, drawing.
“Are you doing anything next week?” Finn asked.
“Hm?”
“Christmas.”
“Oh, no, I don’t really… believe in that, anyways.”
“Still, it’s nice to have something to do.”
“I guess,” Kieran responded, continuing to draw. Finn went to the kitchen to check on the water (even though he knew it wasn’t ready yet), and sat down at the dining room table to wait.
“I’m having some friends over. My parents are away, so we’re going to do something when they’re back,” Finn said, a little louder so Kieran could hear him.
“You could come over, too, if you want,” Finn added.
“I don’t think that would work out so well.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t think I’m the sort of person you usually hang out with. And, let’s face it, I’m not exactly an agreeable person. I will probably just ruin it, really,” Kieran said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Well, then, don’t be an asshole,” Finn stated simply.
“Hah, can’t argue that,” Kieran responded.
“So, will you do it?” Finn asked again.
“Maybe.”
Finn could tell he wasn’t going to get a ‘yes’ out of Kieran. He returned to the stove and continued watching it. It reached boiling, and he dropped in the pasta, stirring the sauce. It was done, soon.
“Food’s ready,” Finn called.
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