[color=007236][b]New York Slums: Vinnie's Gym[/b][/color]

[i]I had a bad dream, mother.[/i] He said, in a rather dejected tone. The sun shone in the sofa in a dreamy fashion, as Miro cuddled up in the lap of the one who had given him life. That scent, he would always remember that lavender scent from the washing soap. Gentle hands caressed his hair, as he breathed slowly. 

[i]Miro. My little Miro. How hard it must have been.[/i] The voice rang in Miro's mind, a soft hum, as she kept stroking the loose hair strands. [i]To kill all those people.[/i]

[i]UH??[/i] Miro's eyes darted upwards, as the same motherly hands that were soothing her were seizing his throat. Choking the breath out of him. Her face... her face was melting, eyes coming out of her eyesocket, while a bloody skull leered.

[i]YOU HAVE BEEN A NAUGHTY BOY. YOU SHOULD BE WITH ME. IN THE GRAVE.[/i] The monster screeched into Miro's mind, as he flailed.

[hr]

And consciousness set in. His breath was accelerated. But he was back in reality. He checked his throat. Nothing. Breathing deeply, she clutched his nose with his hands. A nightmare. Those happened once in a while. Although, a nagging feeling in his mind quickly distracted him. Breathing of other people. He could hear the murmurs around him. Squinting his eyes, he saw vague humanoid, lithe figures. One in a couch. Another in a chair...

...and the third one in the bed, clutching half of his bedsheets. 

[i]Just like stray cats, eh...[/i] Miro thought to himself as he tried his best to slink out of his bed without waking anyone else up. Yup, three girls. Miro pondered about the implications of having three teenaged girls in his bedroom, but... this was no sitcom show. He knew why they were there.

They had no place to go, as fugitives. 

Now, Miro knew more or less the gist of it, after his tearful encounter with Olga, and posterior evacuation. There were a bunch out of there, and the rumour that Miro had fought against an entire SWAT team ran wild. No soon he was nursing his wounds, knocks on his door became more frequent. For a safe place to sleep. Miro never denied them. He had known how hard was to live without a family nor roof. Eventually he settled for leaving a key to his gymn in a secret location near the backdoor, and let them ocassionally crash out at his gym.

But stealing the blankets and the sheets WITH him sleeping on HIS OWN bed... that was getting far too bizarre for his taste. He strolled out to the bathroom, checking the number of towels and setting three of them apart in addition to his own. It was time to play the nice host, he guessed. A ruffled hair zombie greeted him when he stared at the mirror and washed his face.

"Another day, Miro." He said to himself, as he emptied his bladder. After washing his hands, he decided to head for the kitchen. Maybe some pancakes? All girls loved pancakes, right? He said mentally to himself as he struggled to get the ingredients for the batter. It had been a while since he had done something like this. He smiled thinly, as he started his cooking endeavour.

"Pan~cakes...lalalala."