Routine was routine. Shower, get dressed, do your makeup, wash whatever dishes you left from the night before, feed Lord Byron, walk Lord Byron, struggle to cook breakfast, settle on grabbing McDonald's, post a selfie and words of encouragement on Social Media, check orders on Amazon, forget what the hell you were focusing on, remember you were going to get McDonald's, realize you don't have time to get McDonald's, remember that Uber Eats exists, order food, move stuff around the house and tidy up whatever the hell you can, realize there's a knock at the door--

Wait, what?

Shit, what time was it?

Claret was fluffing up the pillows on the couch when her eyes darted over to the clock over the stove. Crap.

She met eyes with Lord Byron, who was laying down on the rug and looking up with at her with his cute, buggy eyes, unusually unaffected by the knock at the door. Alright, go time. 

She took a deep breath to settle her nerves as she made her way over to the door, hesitant hands going to unlock it. When she opened the door, she saw Five, not dressed in the suit she'd seen him in before, but dressed like a... plumber? She wasn't going to question it.

"Hey," she spoke with a smile as she opened the door the rest of the way and stepped aside, beckoning him into the dark abode she called home. "Come on in."

Claret was wearing a slim-flitting black long sleeve top and a plaid skirt, fishnet stockings hugging her otherwise bare legs. She'd tossed on a pair of Doc Martens when she'd walked Lord Byron earlier, but normally she'd prefer to be barefoot. Her attire was perhaps skimpier than most, but this was rather comfortable for her-- she wouldn't be wearing it if it wasn't. She had a feeling she should've been mindful about dressing more modestly with someone else coming to live in the house now, but it was too late for her to bother changing into something else.

If he'd step inside, she'd close and lock the door behind him. 

Lord Byron would no doubt come bounding to greet the visitor, the little dog attempting to jump on Five excitedly.

"This is Lord Byron, as I'm sure you've guessed." Claret would say with an amused smile, laughter dancing along the edge of her words.

Claret was visibly overjoyed at how great Five was with Lord Byron. Nothing warmed her heart more than someone who was good with animals-- especially with her dog. Lord Byron was equally elated with pets and affection from this newcomer-- the little guy rolled right over, begging for belly rubs.

When Five explained why the hell he was dressed like a Ghostbuster, suddenly his strange get-up made sense. That way, if anyone saw him enter her home, they wouldn't think he was there for anything other than some sort of maintenance work. It was a good idea-- one that Claret would commend him on if he didn't look so damn silly.

"Well, hopefully you won't need to look like a plumber every time we step outside," she joked, making her way past him and into her living space. (As a writer, I hope I don't need to go to great lengths to describe what I did in the previous thread.)

The place was cozy. In spite of all the things she owned, it probably wouldn't be read as 'messy'. Things were precariously organized, stacks of things against the wall making it easily navigable, billowing fabrics and curtains hanging from the walls and over the small windows near the ceiling, brick walls pasted over by pictures and posters of every variety until no trace of wall was left to be seen. Fairy lights and colorful lamps were the only thing illuminating the place. Claret was sure that Five would need to adjust to living in relative darkness very, very fast, because there was no way in hell she was letting any bright light into her home, not even to accommodate someone else. 

Forensic Files was playing on the TV, creating ambient sound around them.

Claret went over to the kitchen, leaning back against the counter. "How was traffic?"

"It's not much," she said with a smile, "But it's home." 

His words clearly flattered her-- she didn't have many visitors, so her living space was mostly just for herself and Lord Byron. Having a stranger compliment her home meant more to her than she probably realized at that moment. Maybe Five would really enjoy living here. She hoped she could provide a somewhat comfortable home for him for however long he ended up staying. Speaking of which...

"I didn't have an extra room for you, but the couch over there is a comfortable enough futon." She nodded her head in the direction of the couch. "You can put your clothes and stuff in the armoire over there, too. It used to hold linens and a few board games, but I moved them somewhere else so you'd have space. You'd have to get dressed in the bathroom or something. I'm sorry I don't have much of a private area for you."

She walked over to a short hallway to the left of the entryway. "Bathroom is on the right, my room's at the end over here. If the futon's not to your liking or if you ever get lonely, you're welcome to knock on my door whenever." She winked at him, obvious in her flirting. She might as well not hide it anymore. 

Claret moved back over to the living room. "My home is technically part of the apartment complex above us-- the building to the left if you walk out to the street-- so a lot of facilities are through them. Hot water, electricity, plumbing. I do my laundry once a week in their laundry room on the first floor, but you can go whenever you like, really. I sent a text to the landlady and told her I'd be having someone living with me, but she probably hasn't woken up and seen it yet."

He was kidding, right? There was no way in hell she was going to make him pay to stay here, especially not if she was already paying him. That was completely counterproductive to the whole damn thing! Why pay him at all if he was going to insist on paying her? 

"No. Having you pay to stay here would make no sense. You're already working full time." She didn't want to dispute this. She sighed. "You're not a hindrance, I promise. I appreciate what you're doing and I like the company. That's enough for me." 

She was going to change the subject. Luckily, she didn't have to, because a knock on the door interrupted her anyway.

"Oh shit, breakfast." She'd almost forgotten that she'd ordered McDonald's earlier. She rushed over to the door.

While she was talking to the deliveryman and getting the food she'd ordered, Lord Byron went over to Five, jumping up so that his front paws were on the man's legs, the little guy almost begging to be picked up.

When Claret came back, she put a carrier with iced coffee and a bag of McDonald's down on the counter. She took out a few sausage McMuffins and hashbrowns, setting them down near the bag. "Are you hungry?" She'd ask Five. "I got us breakfast-- I forgot to ask what you liked, so I took a guess." There were two drinks of iced coffee, though she wasn't sure if he even drank the stuff. Maybe she shouldn't have presumed he even liked McDonald's-- some people were snobs about this kind of thing and just didn't eat fast food. Oh, if he didn't like fast food, then they were going to have issues.

Claret wasn't sure if he was thanking her because he was genuinely grateful or if he was just saying that to indulge her, but she wanted to believe she made a right decision in getting something he might not absolutely hate. Hell, she didn't even know if he had any allergies. That alone made buying food for him risky enough. She was going to trust that he knew whether or not he was allergic to something she'd gotten, and wouldn't have thanked her if he knew a sausage McMuffin could kill him. 

"You're very welcome," she said with a smile, unwrapping one of the delicious breakfast sandwiches, "At least I know I can trust my intuition."

She took a bite, enjoying the familiar taste of McDonald's. You can't really go wrong with fast food, ever. Was it unhealthy? Damn right it was. Did Claret ever regret it? Hell no. Life is too short to not eat like shit sometimes, and although she liked to consider herself a healthy and fit person, she wasn't above eating trash whenever she wanted to. Yeah, she had a sexy figure she had to keep up, but McDonald's now and then wasn't going to destroy her body. Normally, she'd try to eat healthy enough, keep up a decent diet, some regular exercise for good measure, but God damn was fast food good. A guilty pleasure of hers, for sure. 

"I shouldn't need to tell you that eating breakfast is important. You're going to need to eat up if you want to stay fit and strong enough to protect me," she joked. It was the truth, though. Eating was important, and she wasn't afraid to nag him every morning about making sure he ate if it really came to that. Her house, her rules.

"I know I can." Her smile was affectionate.

The best part of this arrangement is that he wasn't picky with his food and he at least listened to her advice. Whether or not he'd follow her advice was yet to be seen, but she dearly hoped he was as obedient as he came across. 

Man, the more she thought about it, the more soft he seemed. He spoke like a literature major, was pretty young to be involved in organized crime, and barely knew how to respond to playful flirting. Did he ever get out often? She didn't doubt his ability to do his job yet, but she couldn't help but think he seemed rather... was squishy the right word for it? He'd be eaten alive in the real world. Though if he made it this far, then clearly there was more to him than wholesome wit and red cheeks. Hiraeth City wasn't a city for the weak, and if he was a member of the Kenne family then... clearly that was something. 

"So what can you do?" She took a sip of her iced tea, leaning back against the counter. "As a bodyguard."

He didn't seem like raw muscle, so maybe he knew martial arts? Was he good with a firearm? Or was he more strategic? She was just curious is all-- she wanted to know what he was capable of.

Needless to say, Claret was in both shock and awe. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but him being skilled in the wielding of a knife almost as long as her forearm was incredible-- incredibly terrifying, and incredibly attractive. Maybe he really could kick ass. She hadn't been completely convinced of his abilities before, but he was definitely on the track to proving himself. She vaguely remembered him having a knife on him when they met last night, or at least something on his hip, but now it made sense. Thinking about him being truly capable of taking down someone... He seemed like the speedy type, not all brawns and muscle. She was right to think he might've been more analytical, too. While she didn't want to put herself in any danger, she couldn't help but think about how cool it'd be to see him take someone down. Kicking ass, protecting her... Man, the thought was... 

Oh no, was she blushing? No, play it cool. Don't let his dedication to protecting you get to your head. This was his job.

"Both body and soul?" She teased, tossing her sandwich wrapper in the garbage bin. "That's a lot you're willing to give. You really shouldn't pledge those to me, you might start to give a girl some ideas." Oh, there was no hiding the flirtatious hint to her voice, the darkness of her eyes. She was really going to scare him off at this point, but honestly she had already begun to stop caring about the possible ramifications of messing with her charming, highly dangerous bodyguard. He was fresh meat and it'd been forever since she had the chance to be as playful as she wanted to with someone.

But like a flip had switched, she was back to sipping her iced tea like nothing happened. "That's really cool, though. Can't say I've met anyone skilled in any specific weapon, and definitely not with something like a knife." She set her iced tea down, her hands resting on the edge of the counter behind her as she leaned back. "Do you know any cool tricks?"