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Vinny watches HABIT.
Vinny always watches HABIT. If HABIT is in the room, Vinny's eyes are trained on him. Not always in detail. Sometimes his observations were nothing more than acknowledging he was in the room, keeping his attention on him from the corners of his eyes. Sometimes he would stare and really take in HABIT.
He'd learned things, by watching him. HABIT couldn't stand the feeling of clean hands, and after washing blood from under his fingernails, he would always subtly smooth his palms against the dirtiest part of his jeans, rubbing grime in like a moisturizer. His eyes squinted when something was overwhelming him. He always had something in his hands, or he would be picking at his nails, leaving sharp edges. He couldn't communicate true emotions besides anger or hilarity properly, even as he felt them, always just biting the air or shaking his hands in a particular way.
"Are you autistic?"
The question hung in the air like a dewdrop on a spiderweb, tension threatening to pull the drop to the ground, but miraculously everything was still. It'd been the first thing out of Vinny's mouth when he entered the room, and HABIT stopped whatever he was doing to turn on his heel and look at Vinny. He had an idea of what autism was. Of course he did, he'd witnessed the damn word be created. He knew psychology. He didn't know, however, why the fuck Vinny was asking him that.
"What?" HABIT spat.
"I don't mean that in a bad way, I mean." Vinny clarified. "I just- well, the way you.. uh, are, I guess. Everything you do reminds me of the stuff I've heard about autism."
HaBIT took a minute to consider this. He set down the rag he was holding, wiping his hands on his shirt and then crossing his arms over his chest. Could a demonic creature even have autism? He knew that cats could have autism, and it stood to logic that other things could. Still, he never considered that he would be anything other than a bad habit. A small smile came to his face as he thought of his reply.
"So you're saying people with autism are just a collective of bad traits.'
Vinny paled. "No. Don't twist my words, you shit. You just-" He waved his hands over HABIT's general direction, struggling to form the words. "Give off the energy. Of an autistic guy."
"Never cared much for trains. And I'm talking, ain't I? There you have it, no autism." HABIT shrugged.
"Not all autistic people like trains. Or have the not-talking thing."
"Fuck, Vinny. You want me to be all," HABIT made a face, a loud irritating noise, and shook his hands violently. The screaming sound morphed into a laugh as he threw his head back, amused at his own imitation.
Vinny didn't say anything, for a moment. He leaned against the wall and tried to think of how to explain to HABIT that he did, in fact, do all of that, just at a lower intensity. "HABIT, you.." He began, but failed to continue, chewing his lip. Without another word, he turned and left the room, leaving HABIT to his own devices to mock the disabled however he liked.
A couple hours passed before the two were face to face again. Vinny now stood in the kitchen, preparing something that could pass for dinner with the limited options from the cupboard. It had been quiet, until HABIT walked in.
Vinny's comment had been itching the back of his head for the hours past. This time, he was the one to bring it up, as he perched on the countertop in one swift movement, blocking off space Vin needed. "What about me is so.." He tilted his hand in the air as he searched for a descriptor. "Retard-y?"
Vinny stole glances at HABIT, attention divided between the kitchen knife in his hands (which was dulled down in a way that made it impossible to cut with, since HABIT didn't trust him with sharp blades) and the body in the way of the salt and pepper shakers. He hated when HABIT was in the way like this, not only because he was a physical barrier, but because he served as some kind of mental block as well. With HABIT around, Vinny had to watch. He had to keep his eyes on him. It made doing tasks impossible. At least the dull knife he chopped vegetables with couldn't cut his fingers.
"Can we talk at dinner?" Vinny asked of him, hoping that HABIT wasn't all that curious in the first place, and it could be brushed off. He was met with a silent agreement as HABIT pushed himself off the counter, walking out with a mutter that Vin assumed was insulting.
Preparation went quickly after that, and within twenty minutes there was a plate at each end of the dining table, a Vinny and a HABIT assigned to each. Vinny tried to eat, but HABIT insisted again. "C'mon. Tell me. What makes you think I got that autism thing? Evan didn't, you think I brought new issues with me?" He grinned.
Vinny kept his eyes on his plate, pushing around a carrot chunk. "You have input issues. Touch and sound and stuff. You can't talk to people. You talk about knives like.. how some people talk about trains." He scrunched his nose at the comparison, thinking it was rude in some capacity, but he didn't know the right word for it. Hopefully it'd help HABIT wrap his head around it.
HABIT scoffed. "I don't have input issues. And I'm plenty smooth with my words. You need me to sweet talk ya more, Vince?" He grinned and raised his eyebrows, earning an eye-roll from Vinny.
"You do have input issues, though. Bright lights bother you. And bird whistling, which I'm pretty sure is one of the most beautiful sounds on the planet to a lot of people."
HABIT stabbed his fork into his plate, chipping the porcelain with the force. "Fuck birds." He growled.
"See? That's not normal."
"You don't know shit about me." HABIT decided simply, starting on his plate now that he'd got whatever information he needed.
"On the flip-side, yeah I do." Vinny pressed on.
Dinner ended twenty minutes later with Vinny reading autistic diagnosis criteria off of Google for HABIT, and HABIT rethinking how he compared to other, less particular demons.