Inktober 2022
Oct. 13: Kind

« Oh, how kind of you, » said the blond woman for whom Miller held the door.

He flashed a smile at her, letting her enter his home first before he did, closing and locking the door afterwards. The two made their way into the house, the woman glancing around curiously in his living room as Miller hung up their jackets and headed for the kitchen.

« Take a seat, make yourself comfortable. I’ll get us some drinks and snacks. »

The woman chirped a reply, turning her attention to his bookshelf, then the television. Miller proceeded to make a picture perfect butter board and sliced some homemade sourdough to go with. Once he was satisfied enough with the board, he turned his attention to drinks.

« Do you feel like tea, coffee or wine? I have some good French wine if you like the last option. »

« I’ll take you up on that offer then, » his guest agreed with a chuckle.

Miller took a bottle from the little cellar and popped open the bottle. A few moments later, he emerged from the kitchen, bringing the board and the basket of bread to the coffee table in the living room first. He then brought two filled cups over, handing one to the woman first. Once he finally joined her on the couch, they then proceeded to replace some random TV show and chatted about little nothings, the girl very enthusiastic about it all.

« This is indeed a nice wine! » She exclaimed as she tasted it, swirling her cup gently. « My, you have to tell me where you got this from. »

Miller smiled again. « I can give you a spare bottle if you’d like. Just remind me. »

The woman’s eyes lit up slightly, her mouth curving into a grin. « You are very kind indeed, » she said a bit teasingly while Miller just chuckled as an answer.

As time passed slowly, Miller got to know the woman more as they both drank, his guest visibly more affected by the liquor than he was. She made a short comment on his tolerance, which he simply deflected with habits and genetics. Soon afterwards, the woman leaned softly onto his shoulder and fell asleep, an empty glass in her lap. Miller then put down his glass and gently got up, making sure not to startle her.

He took her into his arms in a bridal carry, then made his way down the stairs to the basement, carefully placing his sleeping guest onto a padded table. Miller then dragged over his little chariot of tools, rolled up his sleeves and wore two pairs of gloves. He ran his fingers over the array of sharp knives, muttering to himself.

« So there are still people who fall for the kind ones, » he said, picking up a scalpel before getting to work.