Chapter Text
“I’ll have the ghosts string you up for that! Get back here NOW!”
First comes that loud bellow, then the frantic pitter-patter of paws scampering across the floorboards. Something made of glass shatters, an awkward plonk of a piano scrapes the air, and the walls of Ramshackle thrum with this contentious game of cat-and-mouse that, frankly, leaves Fellow wondering if he stopped by at the wrong time.
“Nyahaha! Not my fault they were left out! Finders keepers, yanno!” Grim’s snickers flow out of your bedroom window, from which he leaps onto a nearby tree branch. Your arm shoots out after him, flailing around to try snatching him back inside. Grim comes to a pause just out of your reach.
“All mine!” he jeers. He wags something small and golden-brown in your face, then takes a triumphant bite of whatever it is. A pastry, probably.
Fellow leans against his cane, glancing at Gidel with a half-amused curl of his lips.
“Oh, ohh dear,” he drawls. “Look at that, Gidel—seems we’ve caught our little scholar in quite the bind. Think we oughta step in?” He glances up to the window again, just in time to watch Grim dodge a barrage of slippers and kitchen pans. “No, no. Not yet. I’m having a marvelous time watching this play out.”
Your head pops into view, sleeves rolled up with a hairbrush brandished in hand.
“Fnya!” Grim skitters out of the way, dropping a couple of pastries in the process. Splats of crusts and jam join the pile of random household objects on the grass below.
“That’s it! I’m not buying you any tuna for a week!” You prop a knee up onto the windowsill, bracing yourself to jump after Grim. Fellow tenses at the sight. For a second, the amusement slips from his face, and a furrowed brow takes its place.
You’re not that reckless, are you?
No, he doesn’t have time to figure that out.
Fellow doesn’t think twice before he glides up to the tree that Grim is perched upon. His eyes never leave you, who’s halfway out the second story window.
“Wait, wait, wait!” he calls, waving both arms to grab your attention. It’s nothing unusual for Fellow to drop by Ramshackle unannounced, but his sudden appearances still catch you by surprise from time to time. Especially when you’re busy wrangling your greedy little monster companion.
And so, despite his efforts to intervene, seeing him there spooks you into losing your footing. You grab the curtain in hopes of catching yourself, but it tears off the rod almost immediately.
“Ah! Grim!” you shout, fingertips grazing the tree branch. Everything happens so fast. You plummet, the momentum beating the wind in your eyes. All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and hope for the best.
And then it ends.
Something soft is cushioned beneath you. You’d be lying if you said your landing was entirely painless, but nothing broke as far as you can tell. With a tentative peek, you pat yourself down, then examine the cushion—person—that flattened himself trying to catch you.
“...I think that was one of the stupidest stunts you’ve pulled—ow—and I’ve seen my share of those,” Fellow mutters. “Next time you’re that desperate to fling yourself off a two-story building, at least give it half a thought first.”
You spring up out of his arms. “What! And whose fault is that?!”
“Yours, all yours,” he insists. He slowly props himself onto his elbows, trying to ignore the lingering burn from the collision.
“...Are you okay?” you ask.
“Eh,” he offers, sounding vague and unconvincing. “Least I'd say I came at the right time. Y'know, you've always been a sucker for leaving marks on me.”
Very funny. You might have rolled your eyes if you weren't worried that you'd hurt him.