Chapter Text
You'd been living with the strange spider creature for a few months now. You'd gotten used to the weird, and more than slightly concerning piles of hair that, miraculously, show up on your bed once every couple days. You've begun to instinctually pluck flowers from the ground on your walk home from the neighboring village. You sometimes even bring a separate leather bundle along to carry the bouquet you inevitably create.
All this to say, you've gotten quite acquainted with Lenny' ever looming presence. Today in particular, you had begun your walk home after a long day haggling the villagers for more appropriate prices. This had been all the more exhausting given the extra effort of training yourself not to look overly annoyed with the traders, lest your infatuated spider cryptid go on a spontaneous villager hunting spree when it thought you weren't looking.
You'd seen the spider follow you since you'd stopped for a lunch break. He'd walked excitedly a good 10 steps behind you most of the way, but at the halfway point lost his restraint and began walking directly behind you like a pig on a lead.
You still had a good amount of walking to do, and decided it would be a good time to try and talk with Lenny. This, you knew, was almost definitely a fruitless effort, as it was clear he could understand you, communication wasn't exactly his strong suit.
"Find anything interesting today, Lenny?" you said, not looking at him directly. He made a chittering noise, as if he was manually placing the upcoming sounds in his mouth.
"What was that?" you asked.
"Pehsssehn" he slurs. His mandibles move as if he was chewing the word and spitting it out. You look at him and he looks back at you expectingly, seemingly proud of himself. You mentally repeat the sound in your head, pehssehn...pesehnn...present?
"Present? Is that what you said?" He doesn't reply, just smiles wider, flashing his inner mandibles, illuminated by the slowly wavering evening light. You can't help but smile at him. You don't know why, but you love that stupid spider.
You know what a "present" would entail for Lenny. Perhaps he found a particularly interesting looking rodent corpse, or, if you're lucky, maybe he only found a very dried up mushroom. Either way, you're not exactly looking forward to it. Although you appreciate the thought, his insistence on eating the aforementioned "gifts" wasn't really your cup of tea.
Nevertheless, you continued your stroll down the path you'd taken so many times before. Eventually you make it to the cobblestone lined path to the house, where Lenny creeps closer and closer to your side. Before you open the door, you set down the bundle of leather onto the porch and unwrap the twine. You withdraw a single, perfect poppy. The setting sun shines like candlelight behind the blood red petals. It reminds you of the intricate stained glass in the village brewery.
Lenny couches down under the overhang and sits next to you, eyes flitting from the poppy, to you, and back to the poppy once more. You gently extend your arm and offer up the flower. Even though you may not always appreciate his gifts, you still like the fact that he's so enamored with yours. He grasps it with his needle like fingers. He inspects it with as much care and interest as one possibly could. You can't help but feel the warm prick at your heart, cracking it open and poking at your insides with ivory spires.
You stand up, letting him admire the poppy while you fish through your pockets for the key to your front door. You eventually find it and click the door open.
Lenny stays outside, as usual. As you squeeze out of your armored outerwear, you let your mind wander. Why does he never come inside, anyway? The door may be a bit short I suppose, but lowering his head momentarily wouldn't be that big of an issue. It's not like he's ever resisted being close to you unless there was a great challenge to doing so. You shake the thought off. You head to the washroom to finally clean off all the sweat clinging to your skin.
Once you've finished sponging yourself off, you hoist up the iron water bucket and walk out back to drain it. halfway through the door you realize that Lenny is out still, watching the pigs in your pen. Usually he is back to... wherever it is that he lives, but of course, today he came home with you. The thought of him seeing you in nothing but a towel wrapped around your waist sends a small thrill up your spine. You imagine yourself, pretending to be completely unaware, as you tease him, knowing he'll be watching.
You curse yourself, getting so wound up over something so little, but even so, you find yourself purposely shutting the door louder than usual.
Out of the corner of your eye you see his head whip to the side, and his eyes widen as you get on your knees. You act as though you can't feel his eyes drinking in the sight of you, as you gently tip the bucket, letting water cascade over the grass. You slowly get back up, turn back towards the door, and simply walk back in.
As if nothing ever happened.