it has its ups and downs - umber + august

August felt the need to wander around the hallways simply because his bedroom was too comfortable. Back home in the cottage, his bed was homemade–a wooden frame with ropes pulled taut across the inside in a kind of woven lattice with a mattress resting on top. It creaked every time he moved, and had to be tightened again every few days. As much as he had complained about it back then, the silence that accompanied every toss and turn in this new bed felt like he’d lost a sleeping companion.

So he became stubborn about sleep, knowing that he needed it badly, but preferring to only do it when he was completely exhausted.

The hallway outside Seven’s suite welcomed him with pale overhead lights that cast his lanky shadow against the dark blue walls as he walked. The low-pile carpet had a generic geometric design and, being somewhat of a designer himself, August thought it was funny that they hadn’t made a more daring choice. It wasn’t like many of the tenants here would be returning to complain about what it looked like. He would have maybe picked something with warmer colors.

Such thoughts were just a distraction. Half the battle in the training center was trying to learn how to fight; the other half was trying to pass the time. At first he thought he wanted to slow it down, cherish the feeling of still breathing or whatever. But as the days passed, he felt more and more like he wanted to rush ahead to whatever fate lay ahead of him, if only to know what it would look like. Returning to the suite night after night, dodging the unsettling (though well-meaning) presence of Laurel, was exhausting. And then Mackenzie, with that curious look in his eye when they spoke, something the boy couldn’t quite place. For the sake of his own self-confidence, he hoped it was approval. Hoped it wasn’t expectation.

The elevator dinged, its door sliding open with a soft hiss. August stepped inside, contemplating which of the dozen and a half buttons to press; he didn’t have an exact destination in mind. Wandering was the name of the game. He decided on the lowest floor. This week was his first time using an elevator, and he loved the slight free-falling feeling of going down. As the elevator rushed downward at a smooth pace, he could almost imagine himself being weightless. It was the closest he’d get to being in outer space. Alive, at least!

On the first floor, the elevator dinged open. He considered getting off, but then thought about Andromache’s scary psychopath eyes and decided to steer clear for his own safety, in case they’d run into each other. So he went back up to Twelve. He would never get used to the feeling in the pit of his stomach as the elevator ascended, like gravity was tugging at his body more greedily than usual. But he kinda liked it.

When the door slid open to the twelfth floor, Umber walked in. August had been so absorbed in his own thoughts that it was kind of jarring, and he stiffened up a little, then tried to relax his posture. Sure, they would be trying to kill each other soon, but he wasn’t trying to be a stiff asshole in the meantime.

“‘Sup dude,” he grunted, casually. ”You just walked in on me riding the elevator for fun. Which floor are you going to?”