#reblogsforusage has the post the bolded text is from

Favourite Character: Cardin (and Velvet)

The second Cardin stepped inside his kitchen, he sighed heavily and strongly reconsidered not drinking coffee. Or maybe his distaste for alcohol. Would it be better to be caffeinated or not sober? He shook his head and went for the coffee machine, stepping over a mostly dried puddle. If Velvet was here the chances of coffee already being made was high. Thankfully, there was coffee. Still warm. Cardin poured a cup, added what Velvet would consider was too milk, then sipped it as he leaned back against the counter. The liquid warmed his hands through the mug. One Velvet had gotten for him, with the TARDIS on it, despite her dismay that he only really used it for hot chocolate.

He only drank maybe a third of the cup by the time Velvet returned to the kitchen. There was a dark towel between her hands that she was using to dry them. Without saying a word to him, she stepped over the now fully dried and dark puddle as well and poured herself a cup of coffee. Like an insane person, she drank long from the mug without adding anything to the bitter drink. Cardin grimaced just a little.  At least she didn’t always drink it black. Though compared to the coffee he choked down from time to time, it may as well be. How she managed with so little sugar and cream he had no clue. It kind of scared him.

“Rough night?” Cardin asked. Velvet huffed a laugh into her mug. It was completely undignified and completely her.

“You have no idea,” Velvet groused, hopping up onto his counter and leaning back against the cupboards. She leaned forward so her elbows rested on her legs, drink cradled between her hands in the open space between them. Her black combat boots kicked lightly at the cupboards built under the counter. The dark circles that always seemed to be more at home under his own eyes were getting deeper again, making her look more tired than she ever truly got. She took another long pull from the mug. It made her look a little like an alcoholic drowning their sorrows at the bar.

“Guy give you trouble?” Cardin asked.

“Yep,” Velvet said, glaring at the puddle on the floor like it had personally insulted her. Which Cardin felt was a little uncalled for. After all, this was his kitchen, not hers. Eventually she’d have to clean up her mess. Which she for some reason kept dragging to his place.

There was a lapse of silence, punctuated by the steady rhythm of Velvet’s boots against the wooden door under her. Thump, thump, thump . Cardin’s eyes wandered again to the puddle. “You’re cleaning that up,” he said.

“Yep,” Velvet said, taking a sip of her coffee.

Cardin nodded. Good. At least she would clean up her mess. He took an absentminded sip. “And you need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen.”

Velvet groaned.

“Seriously, Scarlatina.” Cardin turned to her, “What are you, a cat? Why do you have to do this here?”

“It’s easier,” Velvet said.

“How is it easier?” Cardin said.

“You help me hide the body!” Velvet said. “And dig the grave! Do you know how longandboring it would be if I had to dig a hole all by myself?”

“I don’t know,” Cardin said, “I think you’ve dug yourself into enough holes.”

Velvet looked at him flatly. “So have you, so I guess I was looking for an expert.”

They both glared at each other, daring the other to mention any of the ‘holes’ the other had dug themself into through the years. Personally, Cardin knew there were plenty of problems Velvet had caused- and some she made worse- that he could mention. (Of course, she had an equal amount for him, he begrudgingly admitted to himself.) The staring contest broke when Velvet looked away with a sigh.

“Let’s just bury the damn body.”

“Fine. But seriously, Scarlatina. At least leave it in the trunk next time instead of showing it off like a prize.”

“But then how would I teach you to hunt?”

“Why am I still friends with you?”

“Because you know if you killed me I’d only come back to haunt you.”