Carrying the shopping bags between them, Micah and Darcy climbed the stairs to the third-floor apartment. The old narrow stairwell smelled faintly of damp concrete and someone's burnt dinner from a few floors down.
The metal railing wobbled when touched, and Micah eyed it warily as he followed behind Darcy, clutching the plastic bag tightly.
Once inside, Darcy kicked off his shoes and carried the heavier bags straight into the kitchen, already unpacking. His movements were quick and efficient, like someone used to doing everything around the house.
Micah hovered near the kitchen, holding his own bag awkwardly, unsure where to go or what to do.
"You just gonna stand there?" Darcy asked without looking up as he sorted groceries on the counter. Then he grabbed a bunch of green vegetables and tossed them lightly toward Micah. "Go wash them."
Micah fumbled and caught the vegetables against his chest with a startled blink. "Oh. Okay."
