Autumn Cleaning

All the doors and windows were open at the house, the window blowing through and airing it out. I couldn't tell wether Alex was in his room or somewhere else.

James didn't seem to care.

"He's always off somewhere," He said when I asked, washing plates as I sat down, "It's either his room, the basement, or off in the woods." I rested my hand on my cheek, watching him as I hummed in response,

"Basement? I didn't know you had one."

He laughed, pointing to the door behind my chair. I turned, standing to open it. I pulled at it, but the door wouldn't give way.

It was locked.

I must've missed it, it did look more like a pantry than anything else. It seemed so blended into the wall, I guess it was just hard to notice in the darkness. Sitting back down, I managed to catch James looking at me,

"How many dead bodies do you have piled down there?" His eyes widened as he focused back on the dishes. He didn't say anything for awhile, as if the question  startled him.

Still, James got back on his feet, a new, quick reply leaving him in seconds,

"Not much," He laughed, it sounded like he had to force it out, "Just a few skeletons. Not more than anyone else."

He was finishing up, and now I felt the need to roam a little more. I walked into the living room without saying anything, immediately thwarted on the instinct that made me want to look through all the books last night. I was brought back to reality, remembering this place was dusty enough to make me think it was abandoned yesterday.

I crossed my arms, huffing slightly and studying it carefully. At this point, I didn't know where to start.

James came up beside me, seeing me glare at the room itself and trying to explain,

"Me and Alex don't use this room much. He's always outside, I'm always in the-" I cut him off with a single look, walking over to the bookshelves. I pulled a book out of place and blowed on it, a temporary wisp of dust appearing in front of me.

I contemplated how quickly my voice would get hoarse from giving orders, but James was a step ahead. He went from standing there in embarrassment to going into the kitchen. I put the book back where it was, looking around the newly illuminated room. We had enough sunlight to do this properly. I would have this room looking spotless once we finished.

He returned with a small bucket of soapy water and two damp rags. He passed me one and put it down, looking around and shaking his head,

"This isn't how I wanted to spend my Tuesday." He said, a rather amused grin on his face as I tried to figure out where to start. Finally, I began on the wooden counter I first saw when I walked in, seeing the hand print I left last night.

It'd be a lot terrifying if my hand wasn't so small. James must've thought a child broke in.

"Oh? Really? How did you want to spend it, humble innkeeper?"

"Reading, actually, or writing. Or taxes. I don't know, anything else to be honest..." I could help but glance at him, laughter bubbling up in my chest at the mock anguish in his voice. He gave me one last childish glare before moving to a small table in front of the couch.

After a several minutes, a few moments of dumping into the bucket, and small grumbling from James, I couldn't help myself,

"Why's the basement locked?" My eyes flickered to him and back to the book shelf I was working on. Newly cleaned books and their sleeves were on the part of the couch that James had wiped down. He was just returning from the kitchen after dumping out dirty water,

"Why.... do you ask so many questions?" James ended, his tone flowing from low to high as he spoke. It made me roll my eyes, copying his tone,

"Why... don't you clean this room?"

I turned to look at him, expecting him to glare at me or even a little bit of annoyance. Instead, he was grinning childishly to himself. God, nothing I did was gonna upset this boy. And yet, I didn't particularly want to test that theory.

"It's not in great condition, and it's filled with a lot of tools now. I barely go down there as it is," He stood up, moving towards the fireplace beside me, "And it's worse than up here. I'd hate to bring you down there and start an early spring cleaning."

I couldn't help but giggle at that. Only a few hours and I felt like I was assigning chores,

"It is absolutely not my fault that you don't clean your house routinely," I pouted softly, glancing at him, "Maybe me being here will leave a good impact on you guys." He smirked, shaking his head at the statement.

I leaned against the bookshelf for a second, studying him for a few seconds. It was childish, but I had all the time in the world, and he didn't seem to mind. I watched as he focused on getting a dark spot off the fireplace.

I chuckled quietly, noticing how dirty his rag had gotten. That's why it wasn't cleaning. I dipped mine, wrung it out, and then stepped closer to him. Now he noticed, stopping and moving his hand away as he looked down at me.

"Try this, dummy," I wiped it with the corner of the cloth, eyebrows furrowing as I tried to get the mark out. It came out fully, and I smiled glancing up at him to celebrate the mini victory. Instead, I went silent, realizing how close we were. My back rested against his chest, and my face was turned up at him.

I parted my lips to say something, before going quiet. My mind was an empty slate. I was fresh out of one-liners for this one, short moment.

James seemed just as speechless, gazing back at me as if he was looking for something. There was space between us, but it didn't feel like it could be much. We spent what felt like minutes staring until he looked away, our shoulders grazing as his eyes clouded up.

James let out a laugh, taking a step back and looking at his rag,

"To be honest, I think I'm the one who made that mark." He crouched down and rinsed it in the bucket, wringing it out a few times before he continued. I settled for a small smile, a chuckle fighting its way out of my lungs as I took a step back, going back to the empty shelf.

I may have, in every sense of the word, overstepped my boundaries. And here, I could barely process the situation meanwhile James didn't seem affected at all.

I mentally shook my head, knowing that I must've mistaken it. He was probably creeped out that I kept ogling at him. I tried not to think about it, just listening to the sound of the rustling leaves outside as we continued cleaning. A unifying silence settled between us, the small, uncertain moment fading into the past as if it never happened.