Honestly, I’m not happy with the end of this one, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for a while n i figured i should just get it out. Inspired by my bouts of executive dysfunction.
Everything was grey. Barren and grey.
Not the good kind of grey either, the kind that glitters like a pool of moonlight and mercury. No. This was the grey of rolling fields & charred trees, decimated by some long-gone tragedy.
It had crept in on his mind, slowly becoming the normal, the barren scene of a mind without.
After all, being in a position such as his brought repression. The need to seem perfect. To hold everyone up, especially when they couldn’t do it themselves.
…it hadn’t even been voluntary. An unconscious reaction to long-term stress of such a mindset. That everyone needed support, but you would be fine. He would be fine. He always was.
And so that was how the grey day, the first in weeks, had found him. Laying half-curved on a couch in NSR tower, scrolling around some bland social media, trying to ignore the persistant little voice in the back of his head that was whispering, barely a breath of wind across a barren plain.
He wasn’t getting anything done. Nothing at all. That’s okay. That’s okay. He’d get stuff done when he got up.
But his limbs felt weighted, unmoving, as if someone had come along and filled them with cement.
Steps echoed through the room, and as Eve caught sight of him, the light of realization sparked in her vibrant acid green eyes. She pulled out her phone, and her voice echoed, melodious, down the line.
“Zuke? Yes it’s me. I’m at the thirty-fifth floor of NSR tower and there’s someone here who needs you.”
He could faintly hear a tinny response, as if spoken from down a large tube, answer.
“Yeah, I’ll be right there.”
Eve took one last look at him, lying on the sofa, and walked away, heels clicking softly against the stone floor.
He didn’t know how long it had been. Like hours had past, but felt only as minutes.
The door of the elevator opened with a soft whoosh, then came the thud, thud of shoes, and finally a weight dipped the other end of the couch.
“You okay Snow? Cause I left almost as soon as N-Eve called, but it’s been hours. And if you haven’t moved…” He sounded concered. So Snow should probably respond right? That was… socially acceptable. But he couldn’t do it. Could work up the will to move his legs, or open his mouth to say a little line about little Zukkie missing him.
Zuke sighed and, carefully moving Snow’s legs, sat at the other end of the couch. No! That whisper in Snow’s mind wanted to scream, get us up! We have work to do! But they both just sat, waiting out the echoing silence.