I really shouldn’t be finding this situation amusing but I can’t help myself. He keeps on saying he has it under control but I just know that’s not the case. He’s just not wanting any help but it’s hard to resist. I’m mostly amused by the sight that greets me every time I step towards his work room. Note to myself, install a door to his work room just like the one I have up at the top of the stairs that lead into the garden. A split wooden door where bottom and top can be open separately and a screen door. That way he can have the top part open but still not have any visit from the cat-kind where they can make a mess of his room as they’ve done just now.
“Are you sure I can’t help you, Quentin?” I’m amazed at how well I can keep the amusement out of my voice. My studio is scared, I’m the only one who gets to clean it when a mess gets made. I don’t really want him to help me in those cases because I know where everything goes. In the case of his working room, it’s more or less brand new. It was one of those rooms we still hadn’t found a use for, we still have a couple of those. He recently found an old loom and oh it called to him so we got it. It took us a couple of hours to set it up but once it was set up it was like he was a new Quentin.
He looks at me from the tangled mess of yarn and string and he sighs but he still manages to smile just slightly. “Have it all under control, I’m almost done.”
I guess he is almost done, the mess was much bigger than this fifteen minutes ago. “I thought we could install doors similar to the ones I have to get into the garden, would that be all right?”
He blinks once from his mess and stops the gentle tugging he was doing at one particular line. He’s considering the offer as it is. He nods and goes back to his tugging and that’s all the answer I need.
I close the door again to leave him to his untangling and I shake my head. Cats and threads, I’m not really surprised in the end but I guess it is a lesson learned. I don’t know who left the door open as is. I was pretty sure it was closed after we’d finished setting the loom up but we were wrong. I’m more than a little certain it won’t happen again. Lesson very much learned.
It is nearly noon when he joins me again. In the back of the house I hear the sound of that one particular door click shut and locked. For now I guess it is safer. We’ll get the doors delivered in a few more days and set those up. Then he’ll be able to work in his room without having to worry about being interrupted by any sudden cat attacks. These guys really love their yarn.
We try to keep them busy with all the toys, towers and wall-shelves but at times I guess it just isn’t enough. I play with them every day, it’s a bit of a routine. I first take care of the garden, then I wash up as need be to get most of the dirt off of me as it might be. Then I head into their room and I get them running. The cat patio we had planned was delayed but I’m going to bring it back up to the surface. It would get them outside as they might want with no real way of escaping. All of them still have their claws but we’re worried about what might get to them outside in the woods.
His hair is a mess when he drops to sit at the table and I chuckle gently before excusing myself and wandering off to our room to snag my brush. I don’t like the way his works and I feel like I’m always tugging on knots when all I’m trying to do is brush his hair through.
When I settle behind him and gently set the brush to his hair, he sighs and closes his eyes. “I was thinking, we could see about getting that cat patio set up outside. We were thinking about it when it was still just Areli and Lavi but we got sidetracked with a lot of different things. We could bring the plans back out, make sure it’s big enough for all of them and talk to Eoghan, he probably knows someone who could get it set up without too much of a problem.”
He nods, just a small little thing since I’m brushing his hair but I know that’s a ‘yes’ so I put a little mind-note on the idea and I continue running the brush smoothly through his hair. When I come to a tangle I undo it slowly and carefully. Before too long his hair is as tangle free as it will ever be. I put the brush down and wrap my arms about his shoulders, my cheek resting on top of his head.
A few murmured words escape him, they’re so soft I can’t make out what he’s saying but it doesn’t much matter. He’s relaxing against me and that’s the point of this all. I want him as relaxed as possible. I know how frustrating it can be to untangle yarn and thread, even if it more than likely is part of your make. I did want to help him but he made it clear that he wanted to take care of it on his own. His weaving room is off limit to me and I understand that.
After several moments spent simply relaxing, I release him gently and I go to put the brush back into our bedroom where it belongs. When I come back, he’s moved from his chair into the kitchen and I shoo him back to that chair while I prepare us a slight lunch. I’m pretty sure he must be close to starving right now and I can’t have that.
A slight soup, a few crackers, some bites of saucisson to go with that and we’re set. I could have gone for the simplest meal of tomato soup and grilled cheese but we’ve had that the day before and I try not to repeat meals too often.
He smiles at me when I set our meal down on the table and I settle next to him instead of across from him. It’s easier to share our meals when we’re side by side, even if it means that we can’t gaze away at one another. I think it’s sweet when it’s in movies but it’s inconvenient when you’re really trying to share a meal. Reaching out across the table to feed someone some food when there are chances that you might drop that food is just sort of sad.
Usually he’ll sit at the end of the table and I’ll sit at an angle from him, it’s our usual position but I don’t know, today just seemed closer to a side by side thing.
I can see slight bags under his eyes and I worry. I’ve been sleeping well enough lately and I tend to wake at the drop of a pin, I should have noticed if he wasn’t sleeping well. I reach out slightly and brush his cheek. He looks up to me, an unspoken question in his eyes. I brush the pad of my thumb ever softly under his eyes with a soft frown but he only shakes his head lightly, leaning against my palm for a moment.
“I’m just tired. I was so excited about the loom when we were done setting it up that I’ve barely slept so it’s my own fault, don’t worry.”
I nod and kiss his cheek. We don’t lie to one another. At least, that’s how I see things and I don’t like to him and I believe that he doesn’t like to me. I don’t think it would do us much good if we were to do that anyway. “How about a nap after we’ve eaten a bit? I’ll rub your back?”
Back rubs help him sleep more easily, I’ve learned. His eyes brighten up and I settle back to eat a little, share our food. If I can help him sleep then it’s all the better, it gives me life a little bit more purpose.