It's been a few hours. You'd watched countless doppelgängers die during the D.D.D cleansing process, but one made you more uncomfortable than the rest. It was a monster disguised as the milkman. It looked perfect; the creature must've been rather advanced to create a copy this good. His dark hair, pale skin, crooked nose- all of it! It was all exact and attractive like the real thing. The only thing that urged you to dial 3312 was when you realised his card number didn't match that of the one in his file. You were glad that the emergency button caused a metal sheet to cover your window; surely you couldn't have bared to watch such a beauty die.
Your shift is over now, but you can't stop reliving the moment you pressed that button.
You have to go see him.
Exiting your enclosed office area and locking the door behind you, you see the next door security employee in before officially ending your work for the day.
"Floor three, room two" you repeat to yourself, finding it appropriate to double check that you'd let in the real Francis Mosses and killed a fake.
The stairwell seems to stretch on forever- a vast obstacle between you and being assured of the milkman's safety. Why do you feel such an extreme connection to him? What's different about him? You aren't usually this concerned for your neighbours' wellbeing. Why him?
By the time you were done pondering, you'd reached the floor Francis was a resident of. The corridor is short; two rooms on either side, each with a bronze plate hanging on the doors stating which room number it claimed. A potted plant- wilting- sits just outside, decorating the sad walls and dull, carpeted floors. You take a step forwards, footsteps muffled by wool.
Room 4
You continue walking.
Room 3
Steady paced steps.
Room 2
Your heart beats harder.
You think to yourself, "It's 8pm, he should be awake." You breathe in, the warm air (or at least warmer than the office) hits the back of your throat. It settles in your chest as you knock your knuckles against the oak wood of the door- once, twice, thrice.
"I'm coming, hold on." Francis yells from inside to the stranger. You exhale. The door opens. Silence.
After a pause, he talks again, "Who are you?"
"I'm with D.D.D. The door security guy that let you in. You didn't remember me?" Your face reddens in severe embarrassment. "Uhm... there was a doppelgänger of you. I just wanted to make sure I let the right one in."
He seems indifferent to that information, clearly more focused on other things.
"Okay. Well I'm not a doppelgänger... Do you live around here?"
You clear your throat, "No. No, I don't. I live about a half an hour drive away actually."
Clearly taking pity for you and your situation, he furrows his brow. "Would you like to stay for tea? I'm making a casserole."
You nod enthusiastically and agree, stepping into his apartment.
YOU ARE READING
Forbidden Love // Francis Mosses x masc reader
Fanfiction- It's 1955. Despite your duty to stay alert through your door security shift, the cold makes it difficult to focus on anything but it. Just before you can take a sip of coffee to wake you up, another person pushes their entry request and id card th...
