Work Text:
His mother's been sighing over his health since the new job. 'Sitting behind a desk all day, ruin your spine.' There are worse jobs, he reminds her. Back-breaking labour. Mechanical's crucible. The porters, the mines... He's one of the lucky ones.
Still, she's not wrong.
It's an eighteen-floor climb from IT to the Cafeteria, enough to make his legs burn. He distracts himself with people-watching. Like tissue schematics in medical textbooks, every layer is subtly different.
But the skylights, they move. He could sit and watch them for hours. Soon he's not looking at the people anymore.
Until Juliette Nichols.