Apparently, it was autumn. At least according to Silas. Once Silas had finished eating, he and Ira went to the cinema and watched a 3-hour long movie. Sadly, there weren't any zombies in it, but it was an action movie about saving the world. And it had lots of explosions; the really pretty, bright, and loud ones that Ira greatly enjoyed.
After the movie was finished, they went to a restaurant. Ira had already filled himself up with popcorn and soda, so he wasn't hungry anymore and he rather needed to pee, strangely enough. But Silas had seemed really excited when he asked if he wanted to go out to get dinner before they went home and Ira found that his heart kind of folded and he went along with it. Oh well, it wasn't like it was going to hurt.
Or so he thought before he saw the food the restaurant offered.
Because you see you, this restaurant offered food that looked fabulous. And sitting there with only his tiny meal and staring at the delicious-looking food that Silas had in front of him, Ira felt a little jealous. He was sad that his body had already been filled up and now could not contain any more, as he couldn't eat the delicious food that was literally right in front of him and within his range. It felt like a betrayal.
Ira scowled and crossed his arms, stubbornly leaning back against the chair. He refused to watch as Silas devoured food that he couldn't have; he was not going to be a participant in this torture. Instead, he retaliated by checking up on his Host. For a while there, he had completely ignored her and had no idea what was going on with her life now. So when he checked in on her, he was suitably surprised to see that she was in the middle of a film set. Apparently, she was shooting a scene right now. Ira stopped scowling and felt himself pay a little more attention than usual.
This, he felt, would actually be interesting to watch. It was seemingly a historical drama that she was shooting now and he didn't know if it was the drama that was the important one to the plot, but there was no reason why he couldn't watch anyway.
She was dressed in what he thought was supposed to be some kind of medieval clothing. Maybe. European medieval clothing? Something like that — he had seen way too many different styles of clothing from way too many worlds and he could no longer tell them apart. That ability had been lost to him long ago. Or well, he could. He would just have to check his database. But he could not for the life of him think of a single reason why he should do that.
The director started the scene again. Ira got to watch in real life as a scene from a movie (or TV show, he couldn't tell) was being made. During the next 20 minutes or so, the same short scene was being recorded over and over again. His Host kept making tiny little mistakes, and even when she performed perfectly even to Ira's accomplished gaze, there were other things, like the lighting and the actions of the other actors and even the background of this set, that the director wasn't satisfied with.
Altogether, he just seemed like a really horrible director to work for. Even Ira knew that that kind of perfection just wasn't doable without wasting a lot and a lot of time, and you'd just end up making yourself more dissatisfied with the result. Because you had to spend so much time and effort on it, and so if it didn't end up meeting your exact standards and looking exactly like you pictured it, you were just going to hate it even more than if you had satisfied yourself with something a little less perfect.
Maybe that was why Ira wasn't a director.
Could he be a director? That was a thought he hadn't considered before. He would have to revisit that sometime.
"Are you alright?" Silas asked.
Ira abruptly focused back on what was happening in front of him. He saw that the food on the table was gone, apparently, he had automatically eaten the food that was on his plate, and Silas had already finished his own meal. "Yes," he said. "Why do you ask?"
"It seemed like you weren't enjoying the food," Silas pointed out. He leaned forward over the table and gripped Ira's hand. Ira's fingers automatically slotted in between Silas's fingers. He looked down at their connected hands.
Ira rather liked the view.
"I was just thinking," said Ira. He squeezed Silas's hand a little bit tighter and enjoyed the fact that Silas squeezed his hand back in response.
This restaurant was one of those restaurants that were undeniably a romantic restaurant meant for a date. The lighting was low and unintrusive, slightly darker than what was common so that it would give a more romantic atmosphere and help make the setting a little bit softer. There were candles on every table that were lit up with actual real fire (not those fake candles) and the music in the background was the soft instrumental kind. So you wouldn't get preoccupied trying to listen to the lyrics when you were on a date.
It was a nice restaurant. And Ira wouldn't mind going here again sometime. Hopefully, when his stomach wasn't as full and he could thoroughly enjoy the food they offered. He was even kind of looking forward to it.
They stayed there for another half an hour or so, though Ira didn't know why. They had both finished their meals. But Silas wanted to discuss the movie with him and also talk about some unrelated things, like if he liked the mansion and how he felt about possibly moving in there sometime, maybe. And that really, really shocked Ira.
Because he had already decided that he was going to live there from now on and he had simply assumed that that had been decided.
When Ira told Silas this, Silas became really excited. His smile was so bright that it almost hurt Ira to look at it. It felt like it might blind him. And it made something in him squeeze almost painfully, a sensation that he didn't understand. But he didn't say anything about this, only agreeing with Silas that making a cake in celebration of their newfound living situation was a fantastic idea. They should most definitely do that.
They went straight home after the restaurant. Ira had been around a few too many humans today and he was feeling kind of washed out. He wanted to get back home so that he could rest properly, without constantly being surrounded by people that only tired him out.
It was strange, too. He didn't think that humans used to tire him out.
At home, Ira made a beeline for the pool. It was still pretty early in the day — there was certainly still a bit of time left until evening officially arrived. So Ira decided that he was going to use that pool and there was no force on this earth that could stop him.
And it was all Silas's fault too. If Silas hadn't owned a pool, Ira was fairly certain that the thought never would have even occurred to him. He wasn't that invested in pools.
"Mind if I join you?" Silas asked after Ira had told him his glorious plans.
They were nearly at the pool and Ira glanced back at Silas, the man walking behind him. After a second's thought, mostly just to mess with Silas (he actually really liked Silas's presence near him) Ira shrugged and said, "Sure." He made certain to sound as unenthusiastic as possible.
Then a thought occurred to him. "Ah, right. What's your name again?"
"Darcy Lowe."
Darcy. Darcy, Darcy, Darcy . Humming, Ira repeated the name to himself. He wasn't sure if he liked Darcy more than Silas, but the name was maybe kind of cool. Possibly. Granted, Ira didn't actually remember the names of a lot of people, but he didn't think that Darcy was a very common name, at least not in post-industrial worlds. And it seemed to fit Silas just as well as the name Silas did.
"Darcy... Do you like that name?" Ira asked Silas.
"I have no problems with it," answered Silas.
Ira started working again. Entering the pool room, he pulled off his clothes as he went. He was nearly naked by the time that Silas showed up by his side, carrying swimwear. Silas held out the clothes to Ira and said, "Here. This should fit."
Ira pulled them on. They fit well enough so once he was done, he took a running leap and plunged directly into the pool. A gigantic splash followed in his wake.
Ira surfaced in the water and promptly started floating on his back.
Waves crashed over him when Silas followed him into the water and some of it got in his eyes. Spluttering and desperately trying to rub the water full of chemicals out of his eyes, Ira did his best to glare at Silas. This was ruined by the fact that he could not keep his eyes open because they hurt. And they were watering very badly.
"Are you alright?!" Silas asked and hurried over. When Ira was close enough, he took hold of Ira and pulled him over to the edge of the pool. Silas took one of the towels that was lying there and used it to wipe Ira's face.
Ira allowed this to happen without saying a word.
When his face was free of water and he could stand to open his eyes again, he glared straight at Silas. Not because he was mad or anything, but because he didn't know what else to do. As he said, the idea to go to the pool would never have occurred to him on his own. Sure, sometimes he was at sea or in a lake or in a bathtub, but he wasn't usually with other people there. And the chance for other people to push water straight into his eyes and destroy his vision was not very high.
His glare left him when the energy to be upset about it did. It wasn't like it was a big deal. If this body's eyes were ruined, well, it wasn't like he actually needed them. Sometimes they were even extremely limiting.
"It's fine," Ira said. He patted Silas's shoulder gently and decided to be kind. He was going to forgive and forget. No harm, no foul.
It was all fine.
Silas frowned at him. He put the towel away and carefully put his hand on Ira's cheek. His thumb gently swept in circles over the skin, and Ira felt himself leaning into the hand. He liked the gentleness with which Silas treated him. Liked the fact that Silas didn't hurt him. He especially liked the fact that he didn't expect Silas to hurt him.
Silas was pretty nice for a human. And at some point, Ira had apparently gotten used to that.
He was surprisingly fine with that.
No longer tortured by the chemical-filled water in his eyes, Ira returned to floating on the warm water in the pool. He took full advantage of the fact that this was a private pool and he didn't have to share with anyone, except for Silas, and so floated into every single corner. Silas swam laps next to him and was always very careful not to swim too close and splash water on Ira again.
The consideration to not make the same mistake again, to not hurt him the same way again even on accident, made his stomach feel like it was made of knots. It felt like something was going to burst out of him and devour him from the inside out.
It was actually a pretty fun sensation.