Nathaniel (andwatchitfall) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2012-07-04 23:31:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | 2009-09-11, nathaniel, verina |
it took the best of you
Who: Nathaniel & Verina
Where: The hotel
When: Late afternoon
It was against safety codes, he knew, to sit like this atop the step ladder. If the fool boy who had called him out to do the job had not placed the contraption in such a manner that it created an obstruction in the event of a fire, Nathaniel would not have been quite deliberately risking a very minor concussion. But since it was apparently fine to trap guests inside a building that was burning only in the realms of hypothesis, he was oddly content fixing the lighting from his perch. Likely because of how much time he had been spending on the roof when not in work. It was… therapeutic. To spend time with a screwdriver and a slightly neglected set of lights. On a rickety stepladder. Alone. That was the other failing, though it was on his part, really. Ideally he needed someone to hold the ladder steady – again, safety codes more than anything else – but there had been no one here to spare to help, so he had agreed to do it by himself. After all, he was almost tall enough not to even need the ladder and perfectly capable of holding his own balance. It was ridiculous to expect a hotel of people to go without lighting in some of the main halls just because he didn’t have a second pair of hands.
Or perhaps he just needed the distraction. Did it matter? This way a job got done as well.
Oh, but now… Now was not the time for the all-too familiar and increasingly irritating sound of his cell’s ringtone. So help him, he was going to start leaving it at home.
“Mrs—Mrs Forrester?” The frown of concentration that had already been etched into Nathaniel’s forehead began to lose its patience as the rest of his face hardened. Keeping him on a leash would have been more effective than these little portable things. “No. I’m sorry, Mrs Forrester, but I’m not a plumber.” The apology was perfectly sincere, if not a little distracted as he began rearranging his limbs so he could reattach the fixture to the ceiling. “No, I—… Alright, I’ll check the basin tomorrow.” Which meant he would fix it. He would fix it while she regaled him with stories of the war hero young brother he apparently reminded her so much of. He did not think the elderly mortal would understand the irony of this.
But she would have laughed at the way the step ladder saw fit to collapse and drop him the moment he hung up. Nathaniel would never really understand mortals.
At least the light was up. That was something. Someone would have light this evening, even if he now had a twinge in his ankle when he stood. “Serves me right.”