Re: Electronics Shop Apartments: Shiloh F, Alex W
"I don' actually know yet," Alex told him, with a little bit of trepidation creeping into his tone as his hair fell right back into place from where he'd pushed it away. "But I just spent like, six hours cleaning up broken glass at the comic shop, an' I'm not in the mood to do it again." He did feel a little better, hearing that Shiloh only had a crack in one of his windows. Hope was a small thing but sometimes it was the only thing he could find himself clinging to with any certainty.
Alex turned the key in the lock and opened the door, not at all bothered by the fact that Shiloh had invited himself along. It was nice of him, really. They'd only talked a couple times on the forums and seen each other occasionally around the place, one coming while the other was going, that sort of thing. He seemed fine, really, had hosted the party at the arcade and all that. But above all: Mal trusted him enough to live there. Or whatever passed for trust, with Mal. He knew Mal was paranoid - healthy paranoid, in Alex's estimation - so that was as glowing as an endorsement as Shiloh could want, in Alex's eyes. Transitive property of trust. Or whatever passed for it.
He pushed open the door and didn't immediately feel a draft. Good sign. Flicked on the overhead light in the entryway, illuminating the depressingly bare front room (furniture, outside of the bedroom, had been a little slow in coming). Windows intact. Alex nearly sagged in relief, but at the same time, he felt a little energized by the prospect of not having to deal with any further broken glass. "I think it might be okay," he said, stepping in further to allow Shiloh to do the same.