InsaneJournal

In spite of prior disappointments over the past few days, it was old promises of cookies and her invigorating smiles kept Rick checking in on the apartment #607, the one that belonged to his coworker...well, belonged to Kami, at least.  That didn't matter, not really.  It had been over a week now, nearly two, since he got to really talk to her. 

And now, he wasn't in the mood for being deterred again.  Rick got down on his hands and knees and peered under the door.  None of the lights in the apartment were out, clearly.  He didn't think she was hiding, just was gone for now.  Work?  He wasn't sure.  He even briefly wondered if he had the wrong place, but he smelled lingering warmth and cookies in the air and that was enough to confirm his gut instinct.  

Problem was, once Rick was on the floor, he couldn't think of a good reason to get up again.  His legs ached from being up and performing all day at the shows, and from expended a little bit of worry on Kami, a floodgate of other exhaustions decided to roll in as well.  He'd just stretch his legs out a little bit, really.  It helped that the floor was no longer old wooden planks, or smoothed marble, or a dusty desert-scape, and even if the carpet was questionably sanitary, at least it was cozy.   Rick pushed his gym bag under his head, fished out something to read, and decided that he'd hang out just for a little while, to see if he could catch her on her way in or something.  If she didn't show up, whatever, he'd just get upstairs and go to sleep.  So he thought. 

And then, as these good ideas tend to go, a busted up health magazine over his face saved only a shred of his dignity as he lay snoring in front of Kami's door.