Another meeting between Jules and Mel Who: Jules and Mel (Thanatos and Melpomene) What: Breaking and entering with intent to cause breakfast? Where: Jules's apartment When: September 23, sometime in the late morning Warnings: None
When Jules hadn't answered his cell phone, there was a brief moment of concern for Mel. There were more than enough things that could of happened, from him simply being in the bathroom and not getting to it in time, to something that resulted in his death. That would have been annoying.
Rather than waiting for him to call her back though, she decided that she'd just go and make a little trip over to his apartment. It wouldn't be the first time that a mortal was passed out after a meeting from a muse, and it would be far from the last. That thought did cause her to make a quick stop at the store first though, before pulling in front of his apartment complex and parking her convertible.
It was quick work to get into the building itself, waiting for the right person to come out with her going in, like a person searching for their keys. A stop by the mail boxes gave her the number for an apartment to start at, and before long she was up near the top of the building.
Glancing about, the muse started to realize the building wasn't what she'd first thought. It was old, like the classic apartments of brick that were featured in movies and TVs for housing a variety of rodents and insects, where residents just wanted to move out, but the inside was actually almost posh. It'd been converted, and from the spacing on the doors, she suspected the rooms inside were rather nice as well.
Coming up to the expected door, she gave a quick rap with her knuckles and listened for a response. Hearing none, the muse set to work on the lock. Hermes would have been proud. With the clicking of the catch, she adjusted the bag on her shoulder, and pushed the door open, peering about in search of signs that the mortal was still around. ... And that this was his apartment.
The apartment that Jules Stevenson lived in was spacious and rather spartan as far as bachelor pads would've gone. There was the normal set of furniture in the living area and dining areas, and the kitchen held the usual assortment of cooking and dining utensils. In fact, the place almost had a too clean, not enough lived in feel to it. If it weren't for the vast amount of haphazardly scattered papers strewn across nearly every flat surface that wasn't the floor, one wouldn't think that anyone really lived here.
The papers themselves were filled with lines upon lines of music. Some of it was written for piano. Others were for sax. There was even a notebook floating around with guitar tabs. There was also plenty of crumpled up pieces of paper too. Clearly the person who lived here had music on the mind, in spades.
A familiar saxophone case, as well as a well maintained acoustic guitar rested on a wall beside the door to another room, which was slightly ajar. There were sounds of rustling and soft breathing coming from within.
Ah, perfect. Slipping within, Mel closed the door quietly behind her. She set her bag down by the door, and softly padded through the room. She paused at some of the surfaces, looking over the music and reading it, easily hearing what was written within her mind and getting the feel for it before looking to the next sheet. She only skimmed some of it though, eager to see what Jules himself was doing. The music would be there when she got back to it. Approaching the door, she pushed it open a bit further, and carefully peeked in.
Though nearly pitch dark within the room, it was clear that someone was sleeping inside. The light from the open door was just enough to allow shadowed images of the items within the room to be recognized.
Just like in the living and dining room, the floor and tables within the bedroom were strewn with more papers. Most of these, though, were disorganized scrawls with bits and pieces of music. It clearly spoke of the deteriorating consciousness of the writer, who was now passed out from sheer exhaustion upon his bed.
Jules Stevenson was laying stomach down the dark comforters of his bed. One arm was pillowed under his head, while the other was draped off the edge of the bed, still half clutching a worn down pencil. He was also shirtless, which was understandable with how warm and humid the weather had been recently. Though hard to see from a distance, up close anyone could see that the smooth skin of the man's well defined back as well as his one loose arm was marred with an array of old scars. It almost looked as if he'd been mauled by some sort of large, vicious animal, and it certainly looked as if those injuries had been extremely painful when they'd been inflicted.
Sneaking into the room as quietly as she could, Mel took her time approaching the figure and letting her eyes adjust to the level of light. His skin stood out in contrast to the dark cover, and she paused to take her shoes off, placing them on the open ground. Creeping forward, she paused by the foot of the bed, and peered at his skin.
Her breath caught. Cautiously, she reached forward toward him. The scars... It could explain a lot about the tragedy that had surrounded him, though she wasn't completely sure how they could have been caused. They had been deep, and painful, but he seemed to move with such ease still... Pausing, Mel caught herself from touching his back, studying him for a moment more. He had said he slept like the dead, but who was to know how truly that really was?
She hesitated for only a moment, before moving around to an open space on the bed, and crawling to sit at his side. Legs crossed, his back before her, she reached out and slowly began to trace the largest of the scars before her. Her touch was tender, relishing the feel beneath her fingers.
Jules stirred a little, but didn't waken. His face reflected some discomfort when Mel stroked his scar, his mind insinuating memories of creature responsible for his injuries into his dreams. The muscles of his back spasmed in recollection of the phantom pain, then settled back down.
Seeing the spasms, Mel shifted her touch slightly, though she didn't completely stop. They were too tempting, to interesting. But clearly he needed his sleep as well. Looking around, she found another pillow, and tucked it at his side. Carefully, she laid herself down beside him, head lifted just enough to see his back, and continued her inspection. Softly, she hummed to herself. There was no true thought given to what she was humming, except that it was meant to relax and soothe, perhaps after a nightmare or troubled memories.
The sleeping man's dreams calmed with Mel's humming, but seemed to trigger something else. Subconsciously, Jules's body sensed the presence of another on his bed and it stirred him once more.
"Takshi," he murmured softly, the exotic name spoken lovingly, even in his sleep. Shifting in bed once more, but still unconscious, Jules turned over and reached for the woman beside him.
Takshi... Mel considered the name, then dismissed it. She could learn about the origins later. Instead, she simply shifted closer to him, letting him reach for her even if she was not the one he was expecting. Her hand stayed against his skin, following what scars she could feel, and continued humming. Soon enough he'd wake up and remember what reality was. If she could grant him a few moments of peace, she would not deny him.
Reality... Definitely something Jules did not want to entertain at the moment. Reality meant that Takshi wasn't there. At least in his dreams, she could be safe and sound in his arms. He drew Mel close to him, till his forehead touched hers. "Missed you," he murmured drowsily, voice full of longing.
Mel closed her eyes and let their foreheads touch, drawing in a slow breath then releasing it as a mild sigh, like one who was waking and would rather be safely asleep. It was a better response then letting her voice shock him from his dreams. She shifted in closer, just slightly, and let her body relax. If the Fates were kind, he'd fall back asleep.
Jules sighed with contentment and, as Mel had hoped, he fell back into a deeper sleep. How long had it been since he'd shared his bed with the woman he loved in his arms? Too long, if the way he'd wrapped his arms about Mel even in his sleep was any indication. Slipping from his grasp without waking him would be... interesting...
She could tell that he was falling back asleep, and stayed still for a short bit to be sure that he truly was, before she fully realized how caught in his arms she was. She was comfortable, and could just as easily fall asleep there herself if it wasn't for the mild buzz flowing inside her. The tragedy of him missing someone who wasn't there mixed in her mind with the music she'd read earlier from his notes, and would not make it easy to rest.
Shifting, she moved carefully, trying to see just how likely it was he'd wake up if she tried to free herself.
The sleeping man groaned, and muttered some unintelligible protest. However, while his arms shifted, so as to try and draw her closer, his grip did not tighten.
That was neither bad, nor good. She feared that simply freeing herself from him would wake him up, yet staying where she was wouldn't help the scene any when he did. She could wait to see if he shifted and released her, but the chances of that seemed to be rather slim.
Sighing, Mel tucked herself in against him, closing her eyes and humming once more. Some she used where the bits and pieces he had put together, the rest merely pulled from her own senses. At least this way she could still enjoy his scars, and she would hold on to the mild hope of him partly rolling over and freeing her before he fully awakened to realize what was happening.
About thirty minutes after Mel had given up hope on escaping any time soon, the air conditioning kicked on in Jules's apartment. The blast of cold air raked across the pair on the bed, stirring the sleeping man enough so that, almost by reflex, he became just coherant enough to lift the arm that had been wrapped around Mel and started blindly fumbling for the comforter he knew was settled near the foot of his bed.
It was all the opening that she needed. She tapped his shoulder, as if silently saying 'I'll get it', and moved to roll away. He'd collapsed on the top of his comforter, but once she was off the bed, there was enough for her to move the edge of it and lap it over him. At least, this was her plan...
Jules protested slightly as she slipped out of his grasp. "Don't go," he seemed to mumble. However, he wasn't near fast enough in his mostly asleep state to recapture the muse.
The muse carefully tucked the blanket around him, placing a brief kiss on his forehead to help him settle as she stepped back. She walked backwards, toward the door, watching to see if he woke up.
Despite losing his bedmate and obviously, even in sleep, being unhappy with that fact, Jules didn't wake up. He settled back down, as hoped, and would probably wake up later thinking that the entire encounter was nothing more than a dream.
And that was exactly the muse's hope. She was sad to see the scars being covered up again, but it was clear he needed some sleep. However, that didn't mean she was done yet. Satisfied that he was asleep, Mel turned and left the room, heading to the kitchen. She grabbed her bag from the door as she walked, and set it on the counters. Now, what to make? Poking through his fridge and cupboards, the muse was able to find enough that she could build him a proper meal.
As she tried to free a pan though, she accidently clattered all of its neighbors to the ground. The muse froze, listening.
"Hmm... whu...?" The man in the bedroom stirred at the sharp, obtrusive sound coming from his kitchen. Bleary-eyed he pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked towards the slightly ajar door. With a yawn, he trudged out of bed, ran his fingers through his sleep-mussed hair with one hand, and silently started materializing a wicked looking scythe in the other. The weapon, though, he kept mostly out of sight. If there was a burgler in his apartment, and he had sense enough to leave of his own free will, then he wouldn't have to waste the energy ripping his soul out and twisting it into a nice little pretzel for invading his home.
At least that was his theory as he slowly pushed the door open, keeping the scythe tucked away in the shadows of his room.
"Hello? Is someone out here?" he asked tentatively, his eyes going towards the kitchen, where he was sure he heard the sound come from
Mel considered a variety of answers, including stripping her pants and peeking out to ask if he'd forgotten her already. Her shoes were still back in his room... But that was a bit cruel of a trick, so she only called back out, hoping her pause hadn't been too long. "Yeah..." She looked around the space, trying to guess what he might be most used to drinking when he woke up.
Coffee, and good stuff at that. There was a canister of freshly ground gourmet beans on the counter next to the coffee maker. There was also a jar of sugar cubes next to the machine, as well as a container of fresh cream in the fridge.
It was a woman? Jules paused in confusion. And a familiar voice at that. Willing the scythe away for the time being, he made his way out of the bedroom and stared at the girl milling about in his kitchen. He rubbed his eyes. "Wait... You're... Mel?" He shook his head. "What are you--? How did you--?"
Spotting the coffee maker, Mel examined it for a moment to make sure she saw how it worked before setting to the task of getting some brewing. She ignored the half asked question about finding and getting into his apartment, and instead went to his fridge to pull out some eggs. She glanced at him. "How are you feeling? You looked like you've been busy."
Jules stepped into the kitchen, still quite shirtless, and glanced around. "I suppose so." He folded his arms across his chest. "But don't try to distract me... What are you doing in my place?"
Her eyes tracked his body as he moved, eyeing the bare skin and thinking of his scars before forcing her attention back to the pan she'd set on the stove and heating it to cook the eggs. "I called, but you didn't pick up, so I dropped by." She shrugged. "You were passed out, so I figured..." Mel gestured to the kitchen, then turned to look at him. Clearly she'd only started on the cooking.
"But how did you get in here?" Jules asked, though the way she was looking at him was starting to make him a little self-conscious. He was only just then starting to realize that he was naked from the waist up, and his scars were visible for all the world... well.. for Mel to see. He started glancing around dining area and living room for something to slip on.
She understood his action, and couldn't help a brief frown that formed. The common phrase may have been 'chicks dig scars', but it was likely her interest was slightly different. Mel didn't comment on that though, and cracked the eggs into the pan, tossing the shells into the sink. "Through the door. It was unlocked." After she'd picked it, but that was a minor thing. "Do you have bacon?"
"It was?" Jules paused in his search, hand on a t-shirt he found resting on the back of the sofa, and stared with confusion at the front door. Did he leave it unlocked? He honestly didn't remember the last time he'd locked or unlocked it, since most days he just slipped through shadows to go where he needed to. Shadows didn't need to be locked or unlocked.
"Bacon... Um...? Yeah... package wrapped in butchers paper on the second shelf," he said absentmindedly as he took a moment to slip his shirt on, inadvertantly giving Mel a good last view of his back.
And she took that look while she could. All of it. Waiting until it was fully covered and the shirt set in place before turning to the fridge and opening it in search of the bacon. She pulled it out and opened it carefully, looking at the slices as she debated how she wanted to cook them. Another pan would be best... "Any food requests beyond eggs, bacon and coffee?" She paused in her fetching of a pan to look at him. "I could probably add something to the eggs if you want cheese or anything."
Once the shirt was in place, Jules started feeling a little more comfortable. He then looked back at Mel and realized two things. First off, now that he wasn't in an inspiration-induced confused stupor, he could clearly see now that the girl in front of him was an immortal. Her gold, undeteriorated aura was a dead giveaway. So she was a goddess of some sort. Exactly what sort, though, was a mystery.
The second thing he realized was that whatever goddess she was, she didn't seem to wish him any harm.... Unless this breakfast was going to be poisoned somehow... because it didn't seem like this one had any idea that he was an immortal too... but that didn't seem likely. If she was just a thief, she could've grabbed what meager possessions he had and been gone before he even woke up. Also, if she were of the violent homicidal sort, well then, she'd have gotten a rude awakening to his identity from the ichor that would've been spilt.
Two semi-realizations, and Jules was perhaps even more confused about this girl than he was when he first met her.
"Some toast would be good."
Nodding, Mel went directly to the bread she'd spotted earlier and placed two slices to be toasted. She got the bacon into the pan and started, then checked on the eggs to see that they were cooking properly. She pulled out mugs for the coffee, plates for the food, and silverware for eating, with minimal amount of searching before she headed to her bag. There she drew out some fruit, and began cleaning and cutting it into a bowl. Apples, berries, banana, nectarine, peach.
As she worked on the fruit and checked the rest of the food, she realized how quiet it could be in the apartment. The air conditioning made soft background noise, but within the space itself, there was little beyond the sounds of her cooking. While it didn't bother her any, it might seem odd to Jules. Music? Revealing that might reveal she hadn't been so quick to get to the kitchen. Wedding? That should be safe. "How was your friend's wedding?"
Jules decided just to go along with things. It had been awhile since he'd shared breakfast with anyone, and the food she was cooking did smell delicious. He started picking up the sheets of music that were littering the dining table. "The wedding went well," he said. "Drama was kept to a relative minimum..." Which was saying alot considering the family involved. "...and both bride and groom made it to the altar in one piece." He read over one of the pages he picked up, frowned, then snagged a nearby pencil to erase a few notes and replace them with something different.
She caught sight of the change to the music being made from the corner of her eye, and a smile tugged at her lips. "They make it away from the alter and on to their honeymoon in one piece also?" she asked, popping a berry into her mouth. Spotting that the coffee was ready, she took one of the mugs and filled it most of the way, leaving a gap for cream. She knew she'd seen that in the fridge...
Balancing mug, sugar cubes and cream container in her hands, she brought them to him at the table and peeked over his shoulder at the music, reading the changes he was making.
"I... think so?" He chuckled a little. "I kinda spaced out for a good part of reception. The band playing the reception were down a pianist, so I volunteered to help them out a bit." He flipped through his papers, then pulled out several. "Here's a bit of something i played there. I feel a little bad using the piano at the reception to test out a new piece, but i don't have a piano yet over here."
She set her items down for him to prepare his own coffee, and took the pages from him. "That's easy enough to fix. Get you a keyboard, one that can be connected to a computer even, for recording, and you can use that for a lot of things..."
Even as she answered, her eyes were skimming over the music more carefully, mentally playing it within her mind, before she cringed. She set the papers down and pointed to a bar that she could only guess had been miswritten. "And I know where there's a piano you can use if you want. The owners won't mind."
"Call me old-fashioned, but I much prefer the feel of an actual piano when playing on those," Jules said idly as he fixed his coffee. Then he watched her for a minute as he took his first sip. She seemed to know how to read music, which was nice. He came up beside her to look at what she was pointing out. With a frown of his own, he took up the pencil and reworked the offending bar in question. It must've been jotted down when his awareness was deteriorating due to lack of sleep. "Don't worry about the piano, though... I plan on shopping for one soon."
"Acoustics are better in a theater though," she mentioned off hand, looking at the change he made and going past it to check the rest. The music flowed easily within her mind, and she started to realize how long it had been since she'd worked with a mortal on their music. Often it'd been plays and scripts and acting, some art of different forms, but it'd been far, far longer for a musician. The simple thought sent pleasant chills through her body. She smiled and turned to tend to the food in the kitchen. "At least you'll have the space for one. I doubt your neighbors will care too much."
Jules nodded, then glanced over at Mel, realizing how close the two of them were standing next to one another. It was comfortable... Almost too comfortable... Inwardly he wondered if he were so starved for the company of a lovely girl that he was willing to allow a near-perfect immortal stranger cook him breakfast in his home.
Then, inwardly, he wondered if that thought would sound as odd said out loud as it did in his head.
"The walls are pretty thick for this old building," he remarked.
"All stone?" She turned to look to his walls, examining them for the first time. Her mind filled with thoughts of just how they could get filled, and what she would see where. "Windows can be noise leaks though," she pointed out, turning to look at him as she made her way to the elements in the kitchen. She smirked. How long had he been caught writing the music that now scattered his apartment? Mm, now there was a good image.
As Jules continued to look over the pages of music, he found himself gradually moving towards sitting at the table. It seemed that the moment he corrected one piece of music, he found another page that needed editing. "The neighbors never complained about my practicing in the past," he said almost absentmindedly examined one sheet. "Then again, it's been over two years. Guess we'll find out soon enough." He began to bite the end of his pencil thoughtfully.
"Your neighbors may have changed you know," she pointed out. The food was separated between two plates, with a larger helping and both slices of toast going to one. She checked that everything that needed to be put away was, and that the elements were off, before pouring herself half a mug of coffee and carefully carrying everything out to the table.
She reached around him to place the plate directly in his path, silverware balance on top, and giving her an excuse to press against him if even for a moment. "Eat, then you can go back on your music binge." Standing as she was, it was hard not to inspire him right there and then, but she fought back the urge and moved away to make a spot for herself.
The feeling her Mel pressed against him, however brief the contact, was enough to jolt Jules out of his focused attention on music. He looked at Mel curiously, watching her as she took a spot at the table for herself. "Mel," he started, not wanting to tip his own hand as to his identity, but wanting to know more the goddess in front of him. "Who are you? Really? There's something about you... When you're around, I feel... " He moved one hand in a vague sort of gesture. "...different."
Mel's face shifted to a more confused look at his first question, and the look didn't change as he tried to clarify. Confusion, as if she had no idea what he could possibly be referring to, was generally the safest way to go. Let them think it was all in their head to start with, until they realized that those soft words of knowledge and wisdom, or pushes that end up being in the perfect direction, always resulted in something wonderful, then simply take it from there. And as long as she didn't over board it, she could play mortal pretty easily. "Different?" she repeated. "...If you're different around me, then how are you normally?" She took a careful sip of her coffee, watching him over the mug's rim.
Jules honestly didn't have an answer to that, or at least not an answer that wouldn't reveal who he truly was to her. "That," he said while pointing his fork at her. "Is a good question." Then he proceeded to start eating. Inwardly he was chuckling to himself. He didn't even know what qualified as "normal" to him these days.
Question? Dodged. Picking up her own fork, she took a bite of the eggs, and pondered the best way to put any of his cautions away. Mentally she shrugged to herself. There wasn't much to hide. "What about you? What's the story of Jules Stevenson?" She picked up one of the berries and examined it. "I know you have a story..."
He thought for a moment. "The story of me? Not much of one, really." It amused him quite a bit since it was almost a literal truth. His mortal alias was only a few years old, and used sparingly at best in the last two alone. "I drift for awhile, then find a place to settle for a few years. Then the wanderlust hits, and I'm on the road again for who knows where for however long it takes to work itself out," Jules said with a shrug.
Mel frowned at him from her spot, the look clearly stating what she was thinking. There was no way that his story was as simple as that. A person didn't become nearly so filled with tragedy, or gain such amazing scars, without some kind of story. At least one. Most likely more than one. "What about your family?"
Jules seemed to lose a bit of his appetite at the mention of his family. He thought about his mother and father, Night and Darkness... He thought of his twin, the god of Sleep himself... And then there were his siblings, Old Age... Suffering... Doom... Deception... Blame... Strife... Retribution... a few among so many others.
"We don't keep in touch," he said simply. Though he would rather avoid the majority of his family, he hoped at least that Hypnos was doing well these days in the mortal world.
She nodded. She could understand that one. Picking through the fruit, she pulled out some more berries to munch on. "I know how that one goes..." she mentioned. "When you move around a lot, it makes you harder to find too."
"Never thought about it that way, but I do suppose it's true." Since the Fall he hadn't seen any of his siblings, save for Hypnos. Idly, Jules wondered where they might be. The thought that they could've faded away like so many other weaker gods or goddesses was laughable. Just turning on the evening news proved that they all existed somewhere.
"What about your family?" he asked. "You look a little young to be living on your own in a city like this."
"I'm older than I look," she mentioned, shrugging. "But my family's not exactly what you would call stable." It was a twisting of things, blending the weird half truths of her mortal story with her real family stories. But it would have to work.
Jules managed somehow to stifle the smirk at the mention of her age. Unfortunately her mention about her family didn't really help in deciphering what "family" of immortals she might hail from. Far as he knew, most pantheons the world over had unstable elements constantly shaking their respective family trees. "I'm of the opinion that 'stable' families simply don't exist in this world. They're an urban legend, like alligators in sewers and Bigfoot."
Both of which he actually knew existed from recent personal experience...
"Most families are stable enough that they don't loose track of teenage children," she pointed out. That was part of her mortal story, though she rarely needed to go into what her actual life had bee, and tended to simply talk about experiences. "Right now, 'family' is my boyfriend and daughter. And whoever on his side accepts me." Which, in fairness, was most. Just not all. She nodded toward the food still on his plate. "You should eat."
Jules did eat some of the food, which was pretty good. It had been awhile since anyone had cooked for him, and most times when he was on his own he simply forgot to eat, since he spent so much time in a ghostly state anyways. "And your family doesn't mind you spending time with a strange street musician you've met only..." He paused for a moment. "...twice?"
The smile at the question came to her face before she could even think that it shouldn't. If her sisters knew, they might ask why she wasn't hanging out with him more. But family as far as he was concerned meant Nick and Helen more. She shrugged. "They're used to it. They're probably glad you actually have a house and aren't living on the streets." She broke a piece of the bacon apart and popped a bite into her mouth. "You aren't bothered by a girl showing up in your apartment that you've only met twice?"
He couldn't help the upward quirk of the corners of his mouth. "Amazingly not." He paused for thought. "Would it be amusing or sad that you are probably one of the most normal seeming women I've known in recent years?"
She blinked at him. She was the most normal seeming? Well, he also didn't know her that well. On the surface, she was fairly normal. That was the point. "... Do you normally know crazy women or something?"
"Not usually crazy," he murmured before taking a sip of coffee. Then he caught her gaze. "Ever hear of that curse, 'May you live in interesting times.'?" He nodded, mostly to himself as he contemplated his mug. "Yes... All cursed in that regard... In spades."
"I know that curse very, very well..." she muttered, thinking back to some of the first times she spoken the words herself. She finished off her piece of bacon. "You're interesting times probably aren't over. You might get a little bit of a breather though. Time to clean them out of your system some."
"Would be nice," Jules murmured. He was about to take a bite out of his last piece of bacon when a cold sensation washed over him. It was an all too familiar sensation... A signal of someone about to die who was going to require his assistance.
It must have looked strange to Mel, the way his demeanor changed. It happened so quickly, and it was something he was so familiar with that the way he reacted was practically reflex. His expression became more somber, and his gaze clouded over and became distant, as if he was looking at something that obviously wasn't there. After a moment his eyes closed and he concentrated on the mortal, the time, and the location of the death that would soon take place. He had... about an hour... and the location...
Mel studied him as he reacted, keeping quiet and looking for cues as to what was going on. She could tell easily that something was going on in his mind, and she wondered if it was some kind of craziness on his end that made his life 'interesting'. She drank most of her coffee, waiting until he seemed ready to come back to reality before saying anything. "What's wrong?"
When Jules came back to reality, so to speak, he realized a little belatedly that he actually had an audience for his little "episode". Inwardly he groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Nothing," he lied badly. "I just remembered an important appointment I need to go to, and if I am going to make it, I need to leave pretty much immediately."
Wait, seriously? An appointment? She frowned. Not so much because he had an appointment, or even that he only just now remembered, but mostly because it meant that her plans for the rest of the day would be delayed, or thrown out the window all together. And that frown of annoyance was probably more clear than she meant it to be.
She looked down at her plate, plucked off the last of the fruit and popped it into her mouth before walking it toward the sink. "What kind of appointment?" Admittedly a personal question, but it could have been business.
Jules left his dishes at the table. He'd get to them later. Right now, he was more disturbed by the fact that he really, really didn't want to do this. He didn't want to go out and save a potential lost soul. He actually felt rather depressed about it, which surprised him even more. "It's... work-related. Not music, but my actual job." He saw the look on Mel's face, and that seemed to make him feel even worse. As unexpected as the morning's events had been, he'd been enjoying the immortal girl's mysterious company.
He felt confused and it showed in his face before he made his way into his bedroom, so he could change into something more appropriate.
Dishes in the sink, she walked back out to the main room, then closer toward his bedroom door so he could hear her. She raised her voice just enough to be sure that he would, without completely broadcasting to the whole building. "Any idea when you'll be done?" And if she could bug him then...
"Honestly I'm not sure," he said from the bedroom. He knew from experience that once he got one call from the cosmos about a doomed mortal, he tended to get several more over the course of the day, if not for several days. He sighed as he got dressed. Unfortunately, his job wasn't the kind where he could just call in sick and be done with it.
He couldn't see it, but the answer made Mel frown more. She then looked about his apartment, wondering where they Fates were. They had to be doing this. "I hate you," she whispered, though she didn't expect any kind of reply from them. She stayed quiet for a moment though, choosing her response. "Give me a call when you're free then?" Unless he was giving her the brush off...
"Of course I'll call you," he said as he finally stepped out of the bedroom. Jules definitely didn't look like a street musician in his "work clothes." There was nothing comfortable or casual looking about the crisp, black, two-piece designer suit he was wearing. He was working on his tie as he walked into the living room, nearly bumping into Mel in the process. "Oh! Sorry."
Her attention went up to him as he came out of the bedroom, and kept it as he talked and walked right into her. It was probably why she hadn't moved. But the change in appearance wasn't once she'd completely expected, even if she wasn't sure what she had expected. "Here," straightening from their brush, she reached up and touched his tie, taking it from his hands to get it into proper place. But it also gave her a good set up. Instead of brushing him to feed inspiration, she tucked it into his tie. Everywhere her fingers lingered on it, until it was perfectly set, she tucked in a few more threads. Unless he fiddled with it, it shouldn't hit him too hard until he was undoing it.
That gave her pause as she looked up at him, her hands still on the cloth. "You wearing this for the whole meeting?"
"Of course," he said with a small quirk of his lips. "It's my uniform after all." It was certainly better than wearing those god awful flowing black robes and being all skeletal underneath them. Fortunately, in this day and age, mortals tended to be more comfortable if Death came to them looking... professional, as opposed to purely menacing.
"Good. Don't mess with the tie until you're home and taking it off then. I've got it perfect for you." Hopefully he was comfortable in a tie and was one of those who tended to forget they were wearing it. Otherwise, he'd have an interesting appointment.
She stepped back to take in his appearance, and nodded her approval. "Looks good. Professional and everything."
He gave Mel a small smile. "Thanks. I appreciate it." Although, quite absentmindedly, he reflexively reached up to loosen the knot of the tie just a little.
She should have known that would happen. Oh well. As long as he didn't handle it too much, the rest of it would wait. It wasn't like she'd packed it with as much power as she could. ... This time. Her eyes tracked him as he did so, then met his as she gave him a nod, then turned to retrieve her bag. "I have your hat too, by the way. But I'm holding that for ransom."
Though he felt a little... something... he couldn't quite explain the sensation as he adjusted his tie, the feeling was set aside as Mel mentioned his hat. Jules couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head. "You're just a little minx, aren't you? So what is this ransom you speak of?" He made one final check of his collar and cuffs.
Mel checked the contents of her bag, then lifted it over head and shoulder to settle into place before stepping back out to meet him. She shrugged. "Mostly just another meeting.... And a performance. I want to hear you play something you've written."
He nodded. "I think that can be arranged. I'll call you when I'm done with my work. I promise." Jules walked her over to the door of his apartment to see her out before he had to make arrangements to leave himself. "You'll be sure to take care of yourself till then?"
"Much as I always do," she promised, though that might not have been saying much. She stepped through the door and gave him a wave as she headed down the hallway.
Jules watched her as she walked away, a heavy feeling settling in his heart. Then he took a breath and went back into his apartment, closing the door and making sure it was locked behind him. Then he stepped into the nearest shadow and began making his way towards the soul who would soon need his help.
Summary: Mel decides to surprise Jules with an unexpected visit the day after the wedding. There are bedroom antics and breafast afterwards, but in a PG sort of way that leads both folks with more questions than answers after all is said and done.