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Previously: Take The Lead
The text comes in while he is still staring at a terminal window he hasn't touched in ten minutes.
you’ve got 1 hour to be ready to go on that date. no excuses
He reads it once, then locks the screen without answering. That feels safer than engaging with it.
One hour.
That is more than he needs.
Upstairs, the room contains exactly what he brought with him. Everything else is borrowed. Bed. Desk. Chair. His bag sits open at the foot of the bed because closing it feels premature. Two shirts. One spare pair of trousers. Everything chosen to be unobtrusive and repeatable.
He changes into the cleaner shirt. The trousers follow. He checks the mirror, straightens the collar, pauses. It looks fine. Presentable. The kind of outfit designed not to invite comment. The whole point of being in hiding is not to stick out.
James said ready. He did not specify further. This would have to do.
Halfway down the stairs, sound reaches him. Button clicks. Fabian talking fast. Adrian responding with commentary that suggests he is losing.
“That doesn’t count,” Adrian says. “You can’t just spray and hope.”
“It worked,” Fabian replies.
“That doesn’t make it skill.”
Sherrinford stops at the bottom step.
The living room is loud and bright. Fabian sits forward on the sofa, controller tight in his hands. Adrian leans back beside him, one leg tucked up, controller loose, attention split between the screen and everything else. The game flashes color and noise.
Neither of them notices Sherrinford at first.
Then Adrian looks up. He pauses the game without warning.
“Hey,” Fabian complains.
“Hold on,” Adrian says, eyes moving over Sherrinford without apology. Shoes. Shirt. Fit. He stands. “You’re going somewhere.” It's not a question.
“I am,” Sherrinford says.
Adrian steps closer, expression thoughtful rather than sharp. “That outfit says you’re leaving the house, not that you care where you’re going.”
“It’s clean.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” Adrian replies. “It just looks like what you packed because you had to.”
“That’s an accurate assessment. I didn't really have a lot of time to pack a wardrobe after...” It comes out sharper than intended. Sherrinford glances toward Fabian and lowers his voice. "The bombing."
Adrian puts up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. An understandable lapse in fashion. Let me help you."
"Is saying no an option?"
"Absolutely not. You need me."
"I'm going to unpause it!" Fabian cries out from the den.
"Gimme ten!"
A groan floats out of the room beyond, but the game music doesn't resume.
"Okay, let's make this quick," says Adrian. "You can probably borrow a couple things of mine and manage a minor glow up."
"Is it really that bad?"
"No, it's not bad," Adrian hustles him up the stairs and into the room he is now occupying with Danny. "if 'PTA Dad' is the look you're going for."
Sherrinford scrunches his face, unsure of the reference, but certain it isn't a compliment.
"Nevermind," Adrian laughs. "Let's just say you can do better."'
"Thank you, I think."
By the time James arrives an hour later to collect the other half of his date, Sherrinford hopes better has been accomplished.
@James Sterling III ❤ 🧡 💛 💚 💙 💜 🖤