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In hindsight, you should’ve known something was up when Zoey didn’t answer your text stating that you were on the way to the Huntr/x penthouse. The girl was practically glued to her phone and constantly doomscrolling on social media to whatever animal videos popped up on her feed, and she was always quick to respond to your texts with a million emojis.
That morning, she’d practically begged you to stop by after work, claiming she was slowly dying (she wasn’t), now that her roommates had abandoned her (they had solo schedules for the day) and left her to pet sit Derpy and Sussie.
A part of you had hoped that her lack of response was simply her being preoccupied with watching over the two animals or perhaps writing a new song. But, as the elevator dinged to signal your arrival in the penthouse, the loud crash that followed did nothing to calm your worries.
Zoey appeared around the corner in a blur, dashing toward you with frantic energy. Her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead.
“Hey, babe!” she blurted, the words tumbling out like she’d just tripped over them. Her arms shot above her head in an exaggerated stretch, as if making herself taller would somehow block your view past her. “Didn’t realize you were gonna be here so soon!”
You narrowed your eyes at her. “I texted you a while ago.”
“Oh! Right! Yeah…I left my phone in the room,” She smiled nervously, still rooted to the spot like a human barricade.
Zoey without her phone was like Zoey without her turtle videos, unnatural, unsettling, and definitely a sign that she was in the middle of doing something she shouldn’t be.
“Why are you standing like that?” you asked, tilting your head.
“I’m just… stretching,” she said, drawing out the word like it was supposed to make her towering, awkward position seem normal. She reached her arms higher, and even added a dramatic toe rise, as if she’d suddenly become deeply committed in the thirty seconds you’d been standing there.
Her gaze kept darting toward something behind her, but every time your eyes tried to follow, she shuffled a little to the left, keeping herself between you and whatever she didn’t want you to see.
“Zoey.” Your voice is flat, and your gaze unblinking. “What’s in the living room?”
“Nothing!” She shouted out far too quickly.
“Zoeyyy,” You drew out her name in a slow, disappointed tone.
“You can’t tell the girls!!” she burst out, as if that was her real point of concern here.
With a final sharp look from you, she dropped her arms, body slouching forward with her soft brown eyes looking up at you.
“Promise you won’t get mad?” she asked, the nervous tilt of her smile made your stomach sink.
Then she stepped aside, allowing the living room to come into your view. Derpy lay curled up on the couch, even though he looked half an inch away from falling off. In front of him, smack in the middle of the living room, was a fully sized, fully inflated plastic swimming pool. And there, in the center of the massive pool, swam Sussie in lazy circles, ruffling their feathers, clearly enjoying their luxurious bath.
Gargled noises of disbelief fell from your lips as you stumbled forward to get a better look at the pool. “Holy shi—Zoey! You just—What is this!?”
“It’s not that bad! I was just…scrolling and I saw this video of baby ducks in a pond, and I thought, ‘Hey! Sussie deserves a pond!’ Then one thing led to another—“ Frantic words escaping her like her mind was racing to explain before you could scold her.
“It’s like ten feet?!? Why does the bird need a big pool?”
You weren’t sure how a bird could look both offended and annoyed by your words, but Sussie certainly made it possible.
Zoey winced slightly. ”Okay, I told Bobby to buy a pool. But!” Her hands shot up in surrender, “I meant, like, a kiddie pool. I didn’t check the picture he sent. Then he hauled it up the elevator and—”
You rubbed your temples. “And why didn’t you return it?”
She gave a sheepish smile. “I mean, he went through all the trouble of bringing it up so—“
“So you built it?” You deadpanned.
“Bobby helped.” She ratted him out without an ounce of hesitation.
“And filled it all the way?!? Babe, you couldn’t have used, I don’t know, a bowl?”
Zoey gasped, and Sussie let out an indignant squawk. “A bowl? How dare you. They deserve the height of luxury!” Zoey said it with such conviction you would’ve believed Derpy and Sussie were practically her children and not two strays whom her roommate had adopted.
“A bathtub then?” You countered.
She shook her head like you’d just suggested treason. “Derpy doesn’t go in the bathroom after…The Incident. And I’m not separating them.”
The Incident in question was Rumi attempting to bathe the tiger, which had resulted in the girls having to use their combined hunter strength to hold him down and scrub. Derpy’s claws blurred like helicopter blades, leaving marks across their arms and faces until they looked like they’d lost a brawl with a giant blender. (Zoey had to call you for a first-aid kit, speaking in the shaky, shell-shocked tone of a war veteran.)
“Oh my god…Mira’s gonna kill you,” You muttered mostly to yourself.
“NO!” She grabbed your arms and shook you so hard your teeth clacked, her words practically vibrating through your bones. “You have to help me empty it! We can bucket it and dump it in the bathtub and–”
“You jabbed your finger at her. “You are not making me an accomplice.”
She pouted at you, her bottom lip quivering. Big brown eyes shimmered suspiciously, and you could see the guilt trip forming. “B-but… you love me.”
“Not enough to deal with an angry Mira…again!”
A beat passed. Then two. You stared at Zoey. Zoey stared at you.
You exhaled in defeat. “Oh my god… Mira’s gonna kill us.”
Zoey beamed.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You lost track of time between the back-and-forth hauling of buckets filled with water to the bathtub. Then came the hour-long battle with the pool itself, squeezing, stomping, and wrestling it into submission so it would fit back into its box and Zoey’s closet. You and Zoey bickering the entire time with different variations of “No, you have to fold it this way!” and “You mean the wrong way?”. Then, finally, the two of you were able to towel-dry the floor from the remaining water evidence, all the while Derpy and Sussie remained on the couch, with the latter very disappointed to see their spa day cut short.
Now, you lie sprawled side-by-side on a mountain of damp towels, sweat sticking your shirts to your backs. Zoey’s eyelids were drooping shut when the elevator dinged.
Two voices.
You and Zoey bolted upright just in time to see Rumi and Mira step out.
Rumi simply gazed at the two of you, confused, while Mira narrowed her eyes in suspicion. She looked at you, then Zoey, then you again. She took in the mess of towels, sweat, and flushed faces.
“Were you two fucking?” She accuses flatly.
You and Rumi gawk at Mira’s bluntness. Zoey’s grin said Huh, not a bad idea.
“Wha–No!” You try to defend yourself, but quickly fall short of any reasonable excuse for the scene you were caught in. “We were…just–”
“Cleaning!” Zoey jumped in. “Derpy threw up.”
Rumi instantly frowned in worry.
“A hairball!” you clarified quickly. “A… really big hairball.”
Rumi relaxed. Mira did not.
“Right…” Mira gave you both one last squint, clearly filing this away for future interrogation, but didn’t press, for now. “I’m gonna shower.” She didn’t wait for a response before heading toward her room.
Rumi sighed as though agreeing with the sentiment. “Come on, you two,” Derpy and Sussie trailed behind her. “Thanks, Zo!” she called over her shoulder before disappearing inside.
The doors clicking closed echoed down the hall.
Zoey’s eyes slid toward you, slow and sly. “You know… maybe we could—”
You narrowed your eyes. “Zoey…”
“—re-inflate the pool,” she finished with fake innocence. She was definitely not talking about just the pool. She stretched her arms over her head, the hem of her shirt lifting just enough to distract you.
You groaned, dragging a hand over your face. “You’re unbelievable.”
She leaned in until her shoulder brushed yours, her breath warm against your ear. “Oh, come on,” she murmured, voice low and coaxing. “Mira’s in the shower, Rumi too… we’ve got, what? Twenty, thirty minutes?”
“That’s not enough time for—”
She cut you off with a smirk. “For the pool? Or for what I’m thinking?”
You froze, pulse skipping, the air between you suddenly thick with heat. Zoey was still grinning like she knew she’d won before the game even started.
“…You’re still talking about the pool, right?” you asked weakly.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she purred, rising to her feet and extending a hand toward you, a playful glint in her eyes. “Let’s see if twenty minutes is enough.”