Work Text:
Sitting on the communal washer in the basement, you dozed slightly to its rhythm, waiting. Laundry day wasn't stressful, per se, it was just tedious. Especially when a certain blue shirt and bleached jeans finds its way in your bin, covered in blood.
It's been a year since you've just... accepted Josiah as a constant presence in your life. It's not like you can just kill him yourself. OssoTeq is the only place you've worked at, you're good at what you do, and the job still pays amazingly; just at the cost of everyone in the building, thanks to Josiah. But still, you can't bring yourself to quit.
Despite accepting, you were still afraid of them. What if he followed you? How far would he go? What if you changed your name, appearance, and disappeared, would he find you still? Would he be upset? Would he kill you?
Maybe this is what being a martyr is like.
Or, maybe, you're just selfish not reporting him to the police already.
The wash beeped, and you hopped off it's top, popping it open to check on Josiah's uniform. 'Damn it, still stained.' Three washes, bleach, scrubbing, home remedies! Nothing! At this point, you're tempted to just burn the fucking thing.
It's as good as it's going to look. You folded it neatly, hiding the stains, and chucked it into your folded bin with force. "That's not nice."
"OH MY GOD-" you swing around, weaponizing a water bottle against the Unknown.
Josiah, however, doesn't even flinch as it bounces next to his head. "Josiah! Hi! God. I need to put a bell on you."
Trapping you in the small basement, was Josiah's wide body. He smiled a little at the comment, but didn't move. "You, uh, hate me that much? That you toss my clothes like that?"
Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. "Josi, look," you show them the t-shirt, ruined with blood, "This is the best I can do. Unless you literally bathe in blood of your enemies next time, don't go hog fucking wild?"
Josiah held in a snort. "It- it looks great, Yin-"
"Don't go monkey ham, ripping and eating faces anymore!"
His hands shot to his mouth, his shoulders started shaking.
"OssoTeq didn't hire a cracked out chimpanzee from Florida-"
He barked a laugh and leaned on the door, his face red and his body weak. His laugh is hardy, sharp, and you like hearing it. But still, that's the laugh of a literal murderer what are you THINKING-
"Can I get by, so I can stop suffocating in this hot ass, small ass room I'm in before the grim reaper comes?"
Strike in the internet reference. His laugh is very good, but his wheezes?
They're even better.
You stepped over their hunched form with your bin of clothes, and may or may not have shut him in the laundry room of your apartment building.
You can have a little bit of petty revenge every once in a while. As a treat.
Of course, they find a way out somehow, and bother you for food later in the day.