#` 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄 ▸ thread ﹢ 𝑟𝑒𝑢𝑣𝑒𝑛 .

[absta1n]

`　　　CLOSED　　▸　　reuven ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎/‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎@ofherbalisms　.

lingering behind a double storm door, she's had her open palm pressed to the resilient metal for five, ten minutes, doing nothing more than anticipating. the cat. the man. and always in that order, if they should come at all. it had been only this in the beginning — a perchance noticing man and beast wandered past the short stretch of her living room window. almost always around the same dusky edge of the evening. it was a short jump from scheduled curiosity to positioning herself in the four-by-six square of wild penstemon and yarrow. a selfish waiting. tending to her garden. to the cat, the harbinger of man — reuven, the name knotted in her throat, tangled in his unexpected gentleness. so like her father.

the cat, a disheveled, mottled thing, leaps onto the red brick garden wall that frames danielle's front door on either side. she catches the anticipation in her throat and pushes through the door, to the short wall — a half-finished project, begun and abandoned by a long-dead survivor. still, the cement binder, now solid, seems to ooze from beneath the last laid brick. danielle drums her fingertips on common burnt clay, enticing the stray to ram it's head beneath her attentive hand. " hello, darling. " it purrs, a quiet hum of a reward for routine feeding and care. feeding, she supposes, does much of the heavy lifting — to that end, the seamstress unfolds a square of cloth, scraps sewn together into a patchwork, to reveal today's picnic: scraps of meat and the crumbled yellow yolk of a hard boiled egg.

it eats voraciously. she gives an exhale of a laugh, stroking its coarse fur from nape to tail. how precious this small, half-feral life had become to her. and when she finally hears the crunch of boots on gravel — " i was wondering where you'd gone off to, " danielle lifts her chin toward him, followed by her gaze finally drawn from the docile beast. her smile softens, enthusiasm tempered by the nervous comfort that so often accompanies his appearance. " it's not like him to wander this way without you. mm? " the cat has settled, the egg half devoured, purrs replaced by the gnashing of canines on muscle. danielle cautiously withdraws her hand and folds both arms over her chest, skin prickling in the evening chill. now, observing him properly, her brows knit slightly. " was it a ... difficult day? "