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Erik usually went for his morning run at six, but he'd been waking up earlier and earlier these past few weeks. Once he was awake, he was done for; concern gnawed at his insides, driving off any chance of sleep returning.
The upstairs people were a puzzle, one he wasn't any closer to solving now that they'd been here for two weeks. They'd been a fraught fourteen days, and not just for Erik. He knew he wasn't alone in feeling that something about their story didn't add up-- or in knowing that he lacked the information to unravel the truth from the bullshit.
Erik knew what it was to live a hard and joyless life, but there was a different edge to these people, a sense of desperation in their eyes that didn't make sense. It wouldn't have been remarkable except that they all had it, and he couldn't understand what might have put it there. There was something they weren't saying, something they were deliberately hiding, and Erik couldn't let go of the feeling that it wasn't anything good.
He reached the end of the concourse and turned left, picking up speed as he jogged around the curve in the hallway. The patches would never quite cover over the evidence of his and Molly's fight with the centipede; it was the closest thing he got to smiling these days.
The smile vanished without a trace as he heard footsteps behind him, and he glanced out the corner of his eye to see Carter beside him. He didn't say anything, waiting for her to pass on, looking over again when instead she fell into step with him (no easy feat when he had seven inches on her). After a minute of silence, he drew in a breath deep enough to grit out, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
The upstairs people were a puzzle, one he wasn't any closer to solving now that they'd been here for two weeks. They'd been a fraught fourteen days, and not just for Erik. He knew he wasn't alone in feeling that something about their story didn't add up-- or in knowing that he lacked the information to unravel the truth from the bullshit.
Erik knew what it was to live a hard and joyless life, but there was a different edge to these people, a sense of desperation in their eyes that didn't make sense. It wouldn't have been remarkable except that they all had it, and he couldn't understand what might have put it there. There was something they weren't saying, something they were deliberately hiding, and Erik couldn't let go of the feeling that it wasn't anything good.
He reached the end of the concourse and turned left, picking up speed as he jogged around the curve in the hallway. The patches would never quite cover over the evidence of his and Molly's fight with the centipede; it was the closest thing he got to smiling these days.
The smile vanished without a trace as he heard footsteps behind him, and he glanced out the corner of his eye to see Carter beside him. He didn't say anything, waiting for her to pass on, looking over again when instead she fell into step with him (no easy feat when he had seven inches on her). After a minute of silence, he drew in a breath deep enough to grit out, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
