Chapter Text
Gears rubbed his eyes, emptily glancing at the ceiling as the alarm clock was going off. Yet another dull morning to live through. It was scarcely a week or two of him waking up in silence, but for him it seemed as long years of grayish, unremarkable existence.
He sat up on bed and looked around. The absence of the other human beside him already wasn’t bringing any sort of surprise or shock, nor any sort of sharp pain that would resonate in one’s eyes. Just some dulling heartache hidden well, as a leftover of once brightful remorse.
Iceberg was gone, and Gears knew for sure he won’t ever be back — it’s pretty hard to forget the image of one’s lover’s blood on his hands. It was quite foolish to believe that something could change at this point anymore. People come, people leave, that’s how everything works in this place. The most right decision for him would be just to let go and keep going with his ordinary routine.
But Gears couldn’t, even though he had to, considering the importance of his job. All he was capable to during the last days is simply sleepwalking through the shifts and numbing his thoughts with the paperwork, be it cursed. He tried to actually care for things around him back when Iceberg was alive, but now… why ever bother anymore? Just keep up the pace and don’t question a moment.
The man looked down at the half-finished cup of coffee and set it back on the counter. That instant-made coffee never was of a good taste, yet now it was completely empty, even worse than water. Gears left the kitchen room, blindly picking up his suitcase.
A quick gaze at the wall mirror near the entrance door — he instinctively looked behind, like if waiting for someone, but soon enough he shrugged it off. Fixed his tie, without any assistance. His brows curved into a frown as he fumbled for the keys — that fancy Christmas trinket gifted to him still was hanging at the chain. Yet another burden of the past…
The corridor lights in the living block are flickering again. How reckless, Gears sighed — the technician visited just a few days ago, yet now it’s blinking all again. And why can’t people do their work properly in the first time?
That was the only thought the researcher allowed himself on his way through the sectors — that was the only option he could take to help not getting cycled on the same very questions.
“What have I done wrong? How did I not notice? Will I ever be able to get along with it?”
He can not concentrate on his personal worries more than his situation allows, after all. And so, like that, one turn after another, he stops at his office door — not ‘theirs’ anymore, a single spark of sorrow showed up for a second — and gripped at the metal knob.
Yet another dull day to live through…