(Not Quite) Spring Cleaning [Toris]

Gilbert had never thought he would see the day.

But as he looked around his apartment, feeling slightly refreshed and more awake after finally defeating a long bout of writer’s block, finishing his manuscript, and getting some long overdue sleep, all he could notice were the following: dirty clothes strewn along most of the floor and his couch, days old instant noodles and convenience store meal packs piled on the kitchen/dining area, and empty beer bottles all over the coffee table and his writing desk. Adding the fact that he had immediately been welcomed by the not-so-pleasing smell of all of the above combined as soon as he woke up, he could only think of one thing:

One: his apartment was a pigsty. Two: he now regretted getting all the walls (save for the bathroom’s) torn down since it made the mess seem much more huge and visible. Three: he was not cleaning this place up.

Okay, so three things, actually.

He groaned at his last point. But who would then? It wasn’t like the apartment block had a cleaning service or something of the like--wait. Vaguely recalling something he had spotted a few days ago when he had gone out to restock on beer, he grabbed his phone from his bed and ran out of his living space and into the elevator. He had remembered seeing a housekeeping-for-hire ad on the bulletin board by the mailboxes, and he thanked himself for his awesome memory. When he reached the ground floor, he stepped out of the elevator and searched around. Sure enough, the ad was still tacked on the same spot he remembered.

“Bingo!” Grinning and inwardly sighing in relief, he pulled his phone out to call the contact number on the notice. A bit surprised that it was an answering machine that picked up (though he probably shouldn’t be since it was barely dawn), he paused before leaving a prompt message. “Uh...mornin’! This is Gilbert Beilschmidt from Room 61 on the 7th floor, and I was wondering if your service is available for today. ‘Cause my place is a mess. And if you are, feel free to come up any time! And, uh...that’s all, I guess. Thanks in advance!”

With all that said, he hung up and began making his way back to his workplace/living space, very much looking forward to finally being able to just relax and not have to worry about making a deadline.

By nature Toris was an early riser, taking great pleasure in watching a dark world gradually and gracefully light up. However, that night he was up till 2:00 am going over pictures on his laptop, deleting the horrendously out of focus ones and applying a slight retouch every now and then. What's more, it happened to be one of those nights that he just could not sleep, no matter how much he tried to relax. Tossing and groaning, he ended up catching only 2 sparse hours of shut-eye that felt like 5 minutes before giving up and getting out of bed. At this point, even a triple rainbow of every color in the world wouldn't have awed him. It wouldn't even make sense, he was so tired.

After clumsily brewing himself a cup of tea and freshening up a bit, Toris shook off the looming drowsiness as best as he could. Might as well be productive. Who knows what the boss could call you up for next. Photograph the next football match? Take a close up of the rare Frangipani blossom on the outskirts of town? Oh, and thanks Laurinaitis.

"Yes, yes, you are most welcome. Would you like me to get your groceries? Do your laundry? Trim your nails?" Toris mumbled to himself, uncharacteristically grumpy in his sleep-deprived state. How glad he was that normal people like himself turned their phone off during the night. Otherwise he might be doing all those things he was imagining.

He shuffled his way to the small kitchen, yawning and sipping his tea. He took out some rye bread, butter and ham, and began to put breakfast together. Light was beginning to force it's way through his cream-colored curtains. As he munched on the sandwich, he went over to his bedside table and turned his phone on, knowing that he couldn't run away forever. He raised an eyebrow at the display:

Unknown number; voice message Toris listened with growing relief. Then he sent a text to his boss saying that he would be busy today with his other job and he would send the pictures through e-mail.

He was out the door 10 minutes after that.

The moment Gilbert had stepped back into his apartment was the moment he realized that wow, he had no idea what to do once he had no writing jobs to finish. He almost felt disappointed. Maybe he should start a new short stor--no. Today was his long-awaited day-off from writing, so there was no way in hell he was going to spend it writing.

Absently closing the door behind him (no need to lock it when he’s home), he thought about what he could do to pass the time until the housekeeping service got to his place. It’s been a while since he last played WoW, though the idea of spending many more hours with his eyes glued to his computer screen didn’t really sound appealing after he’d already spent the past week doing exactly that. The pub doesn’t open for a couple more hours, and he couldn’t be arsed to get decent and go out, so the cafe or anywhere else outside the apartment building was also not an option.

“Verdammt.” This was more difficult than he’d thought. He looked around for something that could give him an idea, but the most he could see were the beer bottles, lunch boxes, et cetera. He paused when he noticed his bookshelf--weird how it was the only thing that’s relatively clean in the area--then his gaze slid towards the modest stereo system a little ways away from his bed, only partly obscured by a couple of old towels which hung on the speakers.

Well, it was better than nothing.

He made his way towards the stereo (making some quick fun out of trying to avoid stepping on stray pieces of clothing), plugged the appliance in, then hit ‘play’. He almost jumped at the loud, high-pitched singing that blared through the speakers despite the towels blocking them. He turned down the volume. There was no need to look for an empty CD case to figure out what was playing. Georges Bizet’s Carmen. A gift from one of his old editors. The old man had said something about making Gilbert more ‘refined’ or something like that.

Gilbert didn’t know how listening to French opera could accomplish this, but he figured it was worth giving the CD a shot. It was still music after all. Kinda. And he was bored.

Plopping onto his bed on his stomach, he shut his eyes to listen more intently as he used the music and singing to make up a story of his own. Gott, he needed a life.

Dressed in a white dress shirt and black pants with his pink apron on and his hair tied back, Toris headed towards the elevator, his familiar camera bag and occasionally accompanying tripod replaced by an also familiar bag of cleaning supplies and a broom. Usually his employers kept at least some kind of mop or duster, but if they didn’t then he had permission to use the apartment’s supply closet.

While waiting and listening to the faint elevator music, he wondered what his current employer would be like. Judging by the content of the message he probably was in his twenties and living alone. Hmm, I don’t think I’ve ever met him before, but I’m pretty sure that that room has had an occupant for quite some time…maybe we just never crossed paths. Whilst musing, an old apprehension crept up on him as the elevator’s red neon number neared 7 . It was the introvert that had decided to wake up after sleeping throughout his confused haze this morning.

Its only going to be cleaning, so there’s nothing to worry about right? Cleaning is most definitely not a social situation. But who calls a cleaner at 5:00 am? Never mind that. Just get in, do your job, and get out.

Ping The doors slid smoothly open and Toris stepped out and started scanning the rooms, looking for a 61. Finding it, he stopped and took a deep breath to calm himself. Under the impression that the occupant was out, as was the norm when calling a cleaner, he knocked briefly once and opened the door, not surprised at finding it unlocked.

What was inside rattled him, though. Here was a room that was strewn with rubbish of all types: alcohol bottles, empty food boxes, used clothing, pieces of random paper. There were stains of questionable origin and the smell of it all made his nose wrinkle in distaste. Living alone indeed… I have my work cut out for me. Then his critical eyes made their way to the bed and he immediately blushed and stuttered. “A-Ah! Um, I’m very sorry to intrude like this, s-sir! I had no idea that you were still here…the door was open and so I thought…ah…” Meshlas, what do I do now?

It didn’t take long for Gilbert to drift off in a daydream filled with sword fights and passion-fueled bloodshed as he took in the dialogue and arias pouring from the speakers. (This made it impossible for him to hear the knock on his door and the sound of someone coming in.) From what he had listened to so far, he still wasn’t sure if Carmen even had a sword fight, but he didn’t really care. Either way, the version his mind had come up with was far more awesome.

In his immersion, he only noticed the presence of another person in his room after that someone had spoken up while Gilbert was listening to Carmen sing about l’amoooooour or something with a similar pronunciation.

Alarmed yet still quick to act, Gilbert grabbed the first thing within his reach, which was the umbrella wedged between his bed and an end table. He sat up and waved the umbrella around until it was pointed somewhat threateningly at the intruder. He glared at the person, red eyes glinting dangerously as he demanded, “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my apartment?”

A few tense seconds passed, and it was then that what exactly the ‘intruder’ had said began to sink in, as well as when Gilbert noticed that the person he was brandishing his makeshift weapon at was wearing a frilly pink apron, and had cleaning supplies in hand.

...Oh.

He was pretty sure robbers don’t make a habit of carrying a broom around instead of a knife or at least an ice pick on their person. Therefore he was pretty sure that the man he was glaring at must be no one threatening. Well...this was kind of awkward.

“Hey there!” Gilbert greeted cheerfully as he dropped the umbrella to give the man a small wave, demeanour doing a complete 180 once he realized he was in no danger. “Sorry about that, man! I thought you were a robber or something. I wasn’t expecting you this early. Hell, I didn’t even think you’d actually come by today!" He tried to give the man a friendly grin, hoping he hadn't freaked him out with his display back there. “Oh, and it’s alright. Though I wasn’t really thinking of going out, so is it cool if I just hang around while you do your thing?”

When the silver-haired guy started waving an umbrella around, and with that kind of music in the background, Toris lost it and froze up, all of his instincts saying Red alert! Insane person alert! Run! But he couldn't. He just stood there, face looking like a ripe tomato and sentence fading away, and gaped. His heart was having a seizure and his toes were curled to their max. Only the final dregs of early-morning fog and sheer incredulity somewhat convinced him that this was a dream. All of it, a mere dream from having accidentally taken a photo of an old lady with a parasol yesterday. That's it...

Then the albino (for surely that was term for this pale, red eyed individual?) started to say something, and Toris had a flash of revelation that this man, this man, was his current employer. At his friendly, carefree words and style of speaking, he started to relax a tiny bit, the impending pain in his stomach withdrawing a fraction. Alright, alright. It was a misunderstanding. Ok, we're ok, we're safe. He gulped and began timidly,
"G-good morning, sir. I'm sorry for surprising you. Um, would you not prefer to go sojourn somewhere while I work, sir?" Sense was coming back to him. He fell into the regular patterns of speaking to his clients. "Really, I wouldn't want to have you sneeze or get sick because of something that turned up while I clean, sir."

Plus, it would be terribly awkward for me to have someone watch me clean. That is a first that I am not willing to try.

"It will only take about 2-3 hours overall, sir. I assure you that I will not vandalize any of your property, sir." Here he gave a small bow and hoped fiercely that the man would agree. A brief curiosity popped up in his mind, wondering what the albino's name was, since this was the first time Toris had seen someone like the slightly crazy person on the bed in front of him. And certainly the first time he'd been pushed into a situation like this. But it was rude and strange to ask for the name of someone that you clean for and will possibly never interact with again, in his opinion, so he pushed the urge gently away.

Gilbert enjoyed watching as a surprising variety of emotions crossed his new companion’s features throughout their meeting so far. Part of him was disappointed that he hadn’t kept up the ‘insane, paranoid, umbrella-wielder’ act and messed with the guy further, but Gilbert wasn’t that cruel. Well, most of the time. And he’d rather not be the cause of a heart attack or a seizure, one or both of which the guy had seemed close to approaching earlier.

It amused Gilbert how polite this man was, and at the same time he found it endearing. He almost felt guilty about having scared him even though he hadn’t really meant to. It was annoying how he kept on referring to him as ‘sir’, though. With how quickly he had managed to get to Gilbert’s place, it was easy to assume that the man was also a tenant in the apartment building, and if that were indeed the case, surely they had seen each other around (not that Gilbert can’t recall any such instance at the moment) and were therefore at least a bit more familiar than complete strangers, right?

So when the man gave a small bow, Gilbert couldn’t help it anymore. He laughed. It was only out of good-natured amusement though, because really, Gilbert knew he wasn’t the kind of person who deserved such polite treatment, employer or not. “No need for all the apologies and formalities, man! And I’m no stuffy old ‘sir’. Just call me Gilbert.” He frowned slightly as he considered the man’s request. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I mean, I could help you out and stuff, you know.”

The last statement slipped through Gilbert’s lips without much consideration, and it surprised him. But after some thought, he figured that maybe cleaning won’t be so bad if he had someone to talk to through it and do it with. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do anyway, so why not?

Mind made up, he smiled at the man. “Don’t think it’s because I don’t trust you alone in my apartment. I just don’t really feel like going out, and dude, I'm very bored,” he admitted in a half-whine.

At the albino’s laugh, Toris flushed and drew in a sharp intake of breath. Was this man purposely embarrassing him? Indignation worked its way onto his face, eyes going from a worried, wet green to a steely hue and lips tightening. After all his anxiety, and his attempt to regain control of himself, all he got was a casual introduction, not even an apology! Young ones these days have not a shred of politeness in them, do they? He thought to himself, because surely, by the way this ‘Gilbert’ acted, Toris was certainly older and more mature by a long shot.

But as this new acquaintance offered to help him clean with such a laid-back attitude, and he saw that Gilbert really meant it, he softened considerably. He sighed and gave a warm smile back, not being the type of person to get angry for an extended period of time. “Well, sir- I mean, Gilbert…” Now that just didn’t sound right to him, referring to someone he just met (even if it is a very unique kind of meeting) not ten minutes ago by a first name basis. Ah, I suppose I should tell him my name as well. It’s only polite, after all. “Mr Gilbert, it’s a, um, pleasure to meet you. My name is Toris Laurinaitis.”

That done, he wondered what to make of Gilbert’s offer. With a slight start, it came to him that he never had a client propose to clean with him before. This was indeed, a first. It was a day of first experiences, he thought tiredly, and so many emotions so early in the morning. However, looking at the albino smiling at him, Toris felt a twinge of something. What is this? Do I find him…intriguing? Was this fondness? Yes, I think there’s nothing wrong with being fond of this young 'un. His habits are a nice break from all the serious people I’ve worked with.

By now, his spirits were up and back to normal. In fact, he was feeling quite positive, his self-esteem boosted by having successfully handled such a tumultuous introduction. At the back of his mind, he thought that he should have these kinds of first meetings more often, since they seemed to break the ice marvelously. But no, it was way too much stress for him.

“Alright, Mr Gilbert. If you really have nothing to do, I guess you can help me. I’m afraid I might not be the most interesting person to talk to, however, but as you insist.” He set down his bag and broom and gingerly navigated his way across the sea of mess to the bed, and held out his hand both to finalize the traditional greeting and to help Gilbert up.

The moment their hands touched, Toris promptly blacked out and fainted.

Gilbert sighed, on the verge of getting unnecessarily frustrated over the title that the other had affixed to his name. What was he, this guy’s boss or something? No. Gilbert. Just Gilbert, he wanted to say, but decided to keep quiet. It wasn’t worth it, getting upset over something so trivial. Perhaps the guy just couldn’t help but be that polite. So he brought the characteristic grin back on his face before responding, “Nice to meet you, too, Toris!”

Toris Laurinaitis. Another unusual, foreign-sounding name. He had a weird accent as well, and Gilbert wondered what nationality the guy was. It puzzled him how all of his fellow tenants which he’d met so far seemed to be foreigners to the country like he was. He briefly considered the possibility of some kind of conspiracy in his head, only to mentally shrug and laugh it off. He must still be fatigued after all that writing.

He brightened a bit when Toris seemed to relax and maybe even look cheerful, and he nodded at the other words in understanding. “Awesome! ‘Cause I’m a wiz at cleaning!” he declared proudly. “And don’t say that, man. Well, if you’re as uninteresting as you assume you are, then we can always talk more about me!” That said, he reached to meet the offered hand, then jumped back further onto the bed in surprise as Toris, for some reason, suddenly lost consciousness.

For a minute or two he just sat, momentarily forgetting about his new acquaintance's prone, unconscious body on the floor, and stared down at the hand that had briefly brushed with Toris’. There was some kind of tingling feeling in it, and Gilbert’s eyes widened, half-shocked and half-frightened, when he began to feel the sensation noticeably spreading throughout the rest of his body, along with the feeling of his tiredness disappearing.

When the sensations finally subsided, Gilbert was left feeling more refreshed and full of energy than he would be after even a few nights of good sleep. The feeling was nice, but he was still freaked out. What had just happened? Why did he suddenly felt like he had been fully recharged, and why did Toris--

Shit.

Toris.

He scrambled off the bed and moved Toris so that he was lying on his back, then spent the next few moments carefully checking the other’s vital signs. Finding nothing out of order and no external injuries or anything else apparent that could have caused the fainting, Gilbert was relieved, but only grew more curious for an explanation. He was still patient enough to wait for Toris to regain consciousness though, so he instead moved to gently heft the man up before setting him down on his bed.

He sighed again. And now to try and think of a logical explanation for what the hell just happened...

It was black. Toris felt a heavy grogginess engulfing his entire body. So, so tired. Why? I was fine just a moment ago…is it my lack of proper sleep catching up to me? No, this is something else entirely. My whole body feels drained of energy, like it’s been sucked out. I can’t…I can’t move- With considerable effort, he cracked open his eyes. What had happened? The last thing he remembered was the feel of Gilbert’s hand and a rush of warmth zipping out of him. Now he saw a blurry image of the albino’s ceiling.

“Ugh…” He groaned and weakly tried to shift his limbs. Fatigue reached all of his extremities. He faintly felt the texture of bed sheets and wondered if Gilbert had transferred him from wherever he had fallen to his bed. Or had he fainted onto the bed? Ah, how rude that would be. He blinked blearily and tried to sit up, but his arms felt wobbly and couldn’t support his weight.

Just then he saw the owner of the bed and he suddenly felt embarrassed. But even the embarrassment felt drunken. “O-oh, Gilbert,” Saying the ‘mister’ would be too much energy. His voice sounded frail enough; he didn’t want to cause it more work. “I’m really sorry…I don’t know what happened just now… The thought suddenly struck him: how long had he been knocked out? What if Gilbert had to go somewhere and had had to take time to look after him? Toris was about to ask him this, but a small wave of exhaustion spread through him, this one possibly from sleeplessness, and stopped him from saying anymore. Instead, he turned his leaf-green eyes to the albino apologetically.

(Geh, short post is short. My bad.)

Gilbert wanted to think that he had been productive during the near two hours that Toris had been unconscious, but that was just too far from the truth. He had quickly gotten bored with trying to make sense of what had happened, so he had simply kicked off the small pile of clothes from his couch and lied there until Carmen finished playing. He had tried to nap to pass the time, but found that he couldn’t. He was too full of energy to the point that he’d gotten a bit fidgety.

He fed and talked with Gilbird who had stopped by for his breakfast. He had hoped that Toris would have woken up by then, if only to see how he would react to Gilbert chirping at a bird and getting a response. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) Toris hadn’t, so Gilbert had pouted before setting out to make himself some breakfast. Just a couple of sausages and sourdough bread, and some orange juice. He had set a portion for Toris down on the end table (he had a feeling the guy would want to eat after he came to) along with a glass of water.

He was in the middle of going through his food when Toris finally regained consciousness, and Gilbert watched, concerned, as the man struggled to move and speak. He couldn’t decide on whether he should be glad or worried at how Toris had finally addressed him the way Gilbert had wanted him to.

“Don’t apologize and stop trying to talk.” He stood and went to get a closer look at the other’s condition, and frowned. “You look like shit." It was almost unnerving how weak and exhausted Toris looked compared with how great Gilbert felt.

“And you don’t know why and how that happened either, huh?” He sighed, hesitating before deciding to just give up on the matter and blame it on the weird air in the apartment building or something. “Well...whatever. Just stay there and rest, dude. You don’t have to clean today.”

Toris felt very much inclined to follow Gilbert’s advice, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so, intruding upon someone’s hospitality in such a way. After several moments of simply breathing in and out, he decided that he felt better enough to sit up. And he did, slowly. It was a tad bit disturbing how he had to pant a little though. He glanced over at the rest of the apartment, taking in the time (shocked to see that it was about two hours since he’d left his room) and the half-eaten plate of food that he assumed was Gilbert’s breakfast. Then he noticed that there was another plate with the same contents complete with a glass of water. Was that for him?

He scooted over and, after a quick look of confirmation at the albino, began to eat. With every bite he felt his strength returning, and by the time he downed the water, he felt able enough to stand and talk properly. And boy did he need to get some things straight. “Gilbert, about that…thing that just happened, again, I apologize, but…I also want to know if, um…anything strange was going on with you as well. N-not that I think that there would be any, b-but…” Toris paused, wondering whether he should tell this man about the plate incident.

“You see, for me…i-if you want to listen that is…there was this one time, when I accidently knocked a plate over in my kitchen. It was a very pretty plate, with these designs on it, so I felt a bit sad, and I wanted to fix it really badly, but there was no chance: the pieces were all over the place. And some were miniscule as well.” He hesitated, but then continued.

“But when I bent to pick up the bigger pieces for throwing them away, the moment I touched it, I felt this…feeling…and the bits came together again, good as new! At first I was very scared, but then I started to experiment, and I found that I could break things as well as repair them, if I thought to.” Letting out a breath, he finished with, “And now this, this energy flow conundrum.” At the end of this unusually long dialogue (for Toris, that is), he suddenly blushed and swallowed thickly. What if Gilbert dismissed him as a nutcase? He was fully expecting that.