Chapter Text
Ed entered the code on the door and stepped in when the door slid open. With a sigh, he dropped his bag on the floor and turned the light on. The place was quiet. Too quiet. And still pretty empty.
He’d been living there for over a month, but he hadn’t gotten around to furnishing it much. When he wasn’t at work, he was usually out at some bar. And when he wasn’t there, he was passed out on his bed or the couch, or even in Gordon’s apartment.
But tonight, Ed looked around, taking in the lifelessness of the place. A pile of boxes was stacked in one corner. The walls were bare, and so was the coffee table. The bedroom, he knew, was the same. There was hardly any food. He used the synthesizer for everything; he knew better than to try cooking.
Ed straightened a bit. This was his life now. The least he could do was try to make this apartment feel like a home. He was off the next day, and Gordon was out of town. Maybe, if he worked on this apartment, life would feel a little better.
Ed went to the boxes and unpacked them, one by one. He pulled out clothes, books, a lamp, some pictures, other odds and ends that he hoped would make this a place he felt comfortable coming back to. When he found his plush Kermit, he smiled a little and put him on the coffee table, where he belonged. “Good to see you too, buddy,” he said.
After a few hours, he leaned back in the couch and looked around again. The apartment no longer looked like a jail cell. He’d placed everything exactly where he wanted it. Books, pictures, everything else. Even some things he hadn’t had room for in the previous apartment. This place looked like someone lived here.
He closed his eyes and tried to relax. It was still too quiet. Music would help. He scrolled through his playlist. Instrumental jazz. That would work.
Ed dimmed the lights and let the music play. Something still wasn’t right. He looked at the wall. He had a few paintings he liked, but there was a bare spot. The place where, in the other apartment, a poster would be hanging. Well, he could get another picture. Somehow, he didn’t want to synthesize one.