๑ ‧✧₊˚ Equinox 〣 【Whitty x Updike】˚₊✧‧ ๑

【Prologue】

"Oh my gosh, that would look so cute on you!"

The dark-skinned, young lady beamed positively at the man beside her. The latter's face flushed orange at her comment, bashfully smiling and rubbing the back of his neck. "Gee, you really think so?"

"I know so! You're always wearing hoodies so I know it's in your style. Plus, it's spring! You could do with something that has shorter sleeves."

"This doesn't have any sleeves..."

"Exactly!"

Updike watched as the woman playfully nudged Whitmore with her elbow. Watched as she had his friend completely enamoured by her charms. He had stepped into the park with the intention with meeting the shy-natured bomb but instead found himself hiding just around a corner behind a tree. This woman was completely unknown to him and it unnerved him just how... Close the two were. His stomach churned whenever the woman would touch or compliment him. They seem to be getting along well, but maybe they're getting along too well.

He would never admit this due to the nature of his mission but Updike had developed feelings and a connection to his friend. Feelings he had only ever felt once before. Ones that could only be described as trust. As love. However, seeing Whitmore express such joy around his female companion, Updike could feel a weight in his chest and throat. They could be friends, sure, but that didn't help with the harsh tug he felt every time they interacted.

"C'mon, Carol... I am not going to wear a pink hoodie!"

"Pfft, yes you are! I'm going to order it and you're going to love it. And me, by extension."

"Hah!" Whitty waved off Carol as she leaned onto his arm. "I can never seem to stop you..."  

Carol, huh? Updike furrowed his brows and turned heel, heading out of the rusted iron cast gates. He ignored the rain puddles that splashed up his ankles with his quick steps. He couldn't think. He was hurt. Today, he would not be meeting with Whitmore. No, he will do something else. Of course, he knew this action was irrational... But he didn't care in the slightest. He had never had this strong of a connection before and he was jealous. No... Betrayed.

The distant laughter of Whitty and Carol pushed him to pick up his pace, shoving past people with his shoulder to get where he should have been all along. The Greater Good facility. Thoughts began to swirl around his mind. At first, they were all incoherent. All of them overlapped the other and made not an atrocious, jumbled sound.

Then it hit him.

Rain began to pour from the now darkened skies and battered against his fur covered face. Droplets clung onto him like leeches and dripped off at the chin. The thoughts finally started speaking sense.

What if Whitmore likes her more? She's nicer than he is by a long shot. He's cold and aloof while she's sweet right off the bat. What if Whitmore got bored of him? Disregarded him? He would be left alone. Just like when Rosemary left. Torn and heartbroken. Hated for what he does and not who he is.

Updike was upset.

He was angry.

He connected with someone and this is what happened. It always happens. He fucking did this to himself and he was going to fix it. Fix it just as he had always intended.

The city finally began to surround him, the park no longer an issue. Its buildings twisted and towered over him, glaring as he rushed down the dark concrete pavement. The sky clumped together to prevent the sun from ever reaching him. The crowds would part as he approached, afraid of what he could do and who he would target next. Whispers echoed off the walls and spewed out around him. Everything was grey and dingy - he had never felt more connected to the weather.

The rain felt warm on his face now. Though, if he had to guess, he had likely started crying without acknowledging so.

A building grew closer in the distance. A dazzling, pristine facility found right in the middle of the city. It's architecture was gorgeous. Modern. Sporting a brilliant, blinding white that reflected the city lights and made them ripple against every other building that dared stand in its view. The interior of such met with sparkling, black marble. Everything was so... Silky smooth. Polished down until there was not a flaw.

He was almost there.