theattic | MY ROOMMATE, SATAN

Roman watched him make his rounds. His eyes lingered on the various leaves and buds. If he hadn't already developed a liking for this guy, he would make a note to break in later and sample a few. But no. He didn't want stock going missing on Zack's watch.

The young man drew himself up and rattled off his spiel as though he'd already spent hours practicing it. "Only that it's the best florist in t-town--a stunning array of local and exotic blooms all season, any season, with informed and friendly service to boot."

He took a grand, sweeping bow.

Zack stared at Roman a moment, really looked at him, and then laughed. He couldn't say he was informed. Sometimes he had to look at the tags to tell which flower was which, though at least that didn't mean he didn't care. "You should write advertisements. Or yelp reviews."

And while he didn't think he was bad at what he did, the praise wasn't usual. He was more suited to fighting, and yet here he was, getting a shining review on his flower caretaking. "You really know how to make a guy feel like he's doing a good job. Thanks."

Roman stood tall again and beamed, his slyness returning now that he was finally fully relaxed.

"I used to be a t-tutor. A little encouragement can go a long way!"

Some days he lurked around on college campuses and made a few green bills off desperate students just before finals.

Zack smiles a little at his comment, nodding, "Yeah...I used to do that too. Mentoring was pretty fun." He missed it, honestly, but it wasn't like he could waltz back and take over training again. Not that he'd want to. All the young hopefuls, dragged down to the science department after him...it made running like this seem like he was abandoning them, but he had made the decision just the same as they had.

Maybe it would be different for them. And yet...it probably wouldn't. There came the guilt again.

"You have a favorite subject?"

Roman's grin only grew and he went back to propping his elbow on the counter.

"I deal in what many c-consider the worst subject of all..." He let those words hang in the air for a moment. "Advanced mathematics.

Zack was afraid the word 'science' was going to come out of his mouth like some dirty swear. Thankfully it didn't, though he was aware that advanced mathematics did go hand in hand with science, that was okay.

"I don't think I ever got to far in that. Just the basics, you know?" He shrugs, unsure of what all he should say on this, "Did you attend college somewhere?"

"For a while..." Roman trailed off. There was some sadness in that. He missed school. It was expensive and tough, but he'd liked it. Sure he could technically go for free now. Be a ghost in the back of class sponging up all that information but...he couldn't connect with anyone. It felt hollow now.

Besides. He had to make room for street smarts.

"I don't wanna t-take up all your time. I think I'll mosey on over here behind these mums and c-catch some shuteye until you need to kick me out."

It was a few hours of more quiet. Zack had actually offered the guy a spot in the backroom, thankful for the lack of security cameras aside from the one monitoring the front and the desk. He didn't mention that to Roman of course, just said it was okay, and let him sleep. He had a few customers, but it was a good day, a slow day like it usually was in the colder months and when it gets to closing, he ushered the both of them out and locked up.

He said his fair wells, went on, and went back to his sad little apartment and ate a heavier dinner than usual, having given away his own lunch. He sat next to the telephone like he usually did, wishing that Aerith wasn't constantly under surveillance, that maybe he could call her, if she even wanted to hear from him, and went to bed without having made the call.

It was routine again for quite a while, the snow coming down every other day, Zack refusing to buy a coat until it really got cold because he honestly didn't need it. But same old, same old. He sighed at the counter, waiting for a customer, and tapped his foot against the floor, wanting to be anywhere but the little personal hell he had applied and committed to.

And all would go as usual as the sun wheeled overhead, hidden by grey clouds. When it was time to leave, though, Zack would not find himself entirely alone.

"Maow."

It was almost more of a squeak than a meow and it came from the throat of a thin, rust-colored cat that was standing in Zack's boot prints on the sidewalk just as he'd finished locking up. The critter was a shorthair, had darker brown socks and an odd-shaped blotch on its back. Or maybe that was just dirt. It was honestly hard to tell.

Zack, who had almost jumped at the sound, froze in the locking motion, looking down and clutching at his chest to exhale when he spotted the cat. "You. You were going to give me a heart attack." He informs the little cat, finishing turning the lock and crouching down near it. Most animals didn't so much mind him as much as they had when he had first escaped. The scent of Mako still clung after years of infusions even before capture, the mark of a SOLDIER, but the lasting cling of those four years of excessive use were finally starting to fade away.

"You look like you need a friend, huh? It's too cold outside for you buddy." He'll extend a hand, slow, gentle. He wasn't so much a cat person, but the growing loneliness was starting to get to him, and a companion would be a nice change. "Here kitty, kitty!"

The cat just blinked back at Zack with large yellow eyes, not the least bit bothered by how startled the man was.

"Aowm," it insisted when the florist crouched down to say hello. The cat drew its head back and let off a series of little snorts as it went through the motions of apparently getting his scent.

Roman found it much easier to pretend to be a cat than a dog. Cats were fucking aliens. Aloof, unpredictable. It was far easier to notice something being Wrong with a dog.

He dipped his head and wiped the entire side of his face down one side of Zack's hand.

I'm starving, you gargantuan porcupine!

Look how cute he was! Certainly worthy of another sandwich!

Zack smiled while the little animal sniffed him and very gently gathered him up, standing. He was careful, cupping the small animal in his big hands, and he pets at it to keep it comfortable and from panicking.

"There, if you sit still, it'll be an easier walk home." He informs the cat and considers himself, sans coat. Instead he'll cup the animal to his chest, sandwiched between his warm, large hands and his sweater. With no real fear that he was going to drop the cat, he starts walking. "I've got you buddy...don't worry."

Roman expected Zack to open the shop back up and to take him inside to that fridge he had convinced himself existed.

He did not expect to be picked up and once Zack started to walk, he started wiggling. THINGS WERE MOVING AWFULLY FAST IN THIS MOOCHER / MOOCHEE RELATIONSHIP.

"Mah! Mwah!MmmMMmmMmm!"

Oh but he was warm. He'd...deal. Eventually Roman settled down and was content to listen to the thrum of Zack's heart with his sensitive ears. It had been a long time since anyone carried him. He didn't take on animal form frequently enough to experience this.

"Hey, I got you, I got you," He whispers softly to the squirmy cat, continuing to pet it to keep it calm as he walked. When it eventually settled down he smiled and held it close, keeping an even pace. Usually he would jog or run home, but he just calmly walked this evening, ignoring the passersby with his small passenger.

He walked up the stairs to his small apartment, unlocking the door and stepping inside, shutting it behind him. It wasn't awful, kept clean and a bare minimum around. A very used couch, something obviously dragged up from the side of the road, an old phone plugged into the wall and a small dining set, but not much else. "Home sweet home." He tells the cat without much luster and finally sets it down on the cushion of the couch, making his way to the kitchen.

He had heard that canned tuna was bad for cats, but...he figured a stray wouldn't be picky. Now...where had he put that can opener?

By the time they reached the door, Roman had dozed off again. It was nice not having his hooves or pawpads touch the freezing snow for a while. Sure he wore shoes in his human shape but HE HATED IT. Shoes were so confining! He'd rather hoof it. Literally.

He let out a squeak of protest when he was placed on the dumpy sofa. No! Spiky warm titan come back! With a light thump, he hopped to the floor and trailed after Zack, his long tail carried high and curious.

"Map. Mawp. Mahp mahp."

WHERE IS THE LIQUOR.

Searching through his surprisingly overflowing junk drawer, Zack glances towards the floor, smiling at his new little friend. "I thought you were asleep." He'll continue his efforts to look for he can opener then, and cheers when he finds it, opening the can of tuna easily and disposing of the sharp lid.

"Here, this is the closest thing to kitty food I've got, so hopefully you like it." And he'll crouch down with the can, rubbing his fingers together to try and coax the small animal to come over.

Roman busied himself sniffing the floor and trying to do Cat Things while Zack worked away at the can. When dinner finally appeared the smell hit his nose and he started to drool.

He delicately padded over and tried to pretend to at least be a LITTLE choosy. He couldn't look desperate. He'd only showed up for a sandwich and to see if Zack's shop had fared a little better since he'd been spreading the news to any human being who dared to make eye-contact with him.

Okay, enough messing around. Once he was sure it had taken the 'cat' enough time to figure out how this tuna thing was going to go down, he wolfed down the contents of the can. Eventually Roman started scooting it around the kitchen floor as he tried to lap up the very last shreds in the bottom corners of the can. He wound up getting it stuck against the grate along the bottom of the fridge.

Zack watched, trying not to laugh when the can gets stuck, and because it was gone so quickly? he produces another one, not minding that tuna sandwiches were going to be off the menu till next payday. "You're starved, huh? Well that's okay. I've got you covered." He sits down on the floor, this time holding the can and pats at his lap. If the cat was so enthusiastic about food before, perhaps he could pet him while he ate?

"Comere, I wanna pet you. It's only fair."

After a few moments of coaxing, Roman finally looked up from the can. A glob of tuna goo was on his nose and out of his range of vision.

He was not...entirely sure about this petting business. He liked being carried and fed because he was a lazy piece of shit but. He hardly knew this guy. Well. No. He knew that he came from the jungle. The jungle that got majorly screwed over by NUCLEAR DISASTER. He was an only child. Quite a few facts.

What did Zack know about him? That he was a math tutor once upon a time. That made him feel a little better. He liked feeling mysterious. And he was a cat for crying out loud! The most mysterious animal of them all.

One dark paw after the other, he gingerly made his way over to where the soldier sat. Okay, porcupine, you can pat him. BUT THE GOODS COME FIRST.

"You remind me of someone, you know?" He said softly, setting the can down in front of him, making sure the lid was securely off and the can wouldn't hurt him. "Though he'd get mad if I named a stray after him, I'm sure."

He reaches a hand out, gently scooting the cat forward, closer to him and the tuna before he just pets at him, making sure not to interrupt any sort of eating that might be going on. "He was quiet, and cautious, but enthusiastic in everything he did." He scratches behind Roman's ears, "A good kid that didn't deserve everything the world threw at him. Just like you, huh? Outside, all alone." His fingers slowed a little, his eyes downcast, "You deserve a lot better. We...We both did."

Roman made good and sure that Zack's hand stayed on his back and neck. Should this petting wander anywhere else, a swift nip would correct the problem. Something odd for a stray though, winter or otherwise. Not a single flea to be found on him. Just dirt.

He listened as he scarfed down the tuna. Wow, this guy really was a leaky faucet when it came to information. Poor guy. If he was from a hut in the jungle with no door he probably didn't have that many people to talk to. Probably anyone who would listen, sapient or otherwise. Monkeys maybe.

It was hard to look like he wasn't listening. He'd always been really attentive in school. He had to make eye contact, he had to always be raising his hand. Otherwise he'd get scolded for the drawings that filled his notebook margins.

This Zack seemed like he'd been through a lot. And he'd done Roman quite the nice couple of favors so he thought it was the least he could do to reward him with the least fake sounding purr he could muster.

That petting hand slowed more and more the quieter Zack became. Perhaps it was the small apartment with little things set around it to torture himself. The flowers that looked like they came from Aerith's garden sitting on his pathetic dining set. The cat in his kitchen that reminded him of the friend he had dragged around the world, trying to get home, and eventually had to let go so they could both survive. He sucked in a breath, exhaled, and it was all shaky like he was trying so hard not to cry.

"You're gonna be okay..." He managed, petting him one last time before scooping up Roman in his hands and pulling him up and up to cradle against his chest. He sucked in a breath, tried to get that purr to sync to his heart, perhaps calm him down, but it wasn't working very well. "You're gonna be okay."

For a split second, his hackles prickled. Something was about to happen. Something wa--AGAIN WITH THE PICKING HIM UP! He was trying to eat here! He'd hork down a third can if he could get away with it but he could only protest so much because now he'd gotten sleepy.

He only stopped when he picked up the crack in the man's voice. Oh jeez. He didn't sign up for this. And yet. He couldn't bring himself to break out of his grip or use his claws. No wonder Zack talked to devils. Something else happened in that jungle or whatever it was. The guy needed a break.

Roman let himself be held. He tried not to take it personally. This wasn't really that weird. Zack didn't know what was happening. And Zack was warm.

Zack wasn't aware he was holding a shapeshifter and not a cat. The thought hadn't even occurred to him. And as he held Roman, his breathing, which had become rather uneven, slowly calmed. He hadn't cried yet, and perhaps just not being alone helped, but soon enough he'd let Roman down again, sighing as he stood up and tossed the one empty can, leaving the one he had yet to finish on the floor for the cat.

He glanced around the kitchen for himself, suddenly not very hungry and moved towards his bedroom, intent on grabbing his 'safety blanket'.

Said safety blanket leaned against the wall as usual, the large sword almost bigger than Zack himself, and he grabbed it, carrying it carefully into the living room, collapsing on the couch to rest the cool metal against his forehead and just breathe. Funny how the only thing he ever really prayed to was a man he had killed himself.

It wasn't long before Roman found himself on the cool kitchen floor again instead of in Zack's arms. He wished this guy would make up his mind but now he had access to tuna again. He didn't pay any mind to what his temporary roomie was doing until something glinted and caught his eye.

Roman gave an impressive startled jump at the sight of the blade. It sent the can skittering and globs of tuna stuck to his whiskers and face as he backed away.

OH GOD HE FIGURED IT OUT HE WAS DEAD! DEAD DEAD DEAD!

MY ROOMMATE, SATAN

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