Pulling onto the side of the road, you park in a space between a beaten-up, brown cadillac and a grey truck, plastered in stickers. Of the ones you could see there were several American flags, something regarding car pricing and a thumbs up. You step out of your car, locking it and walking to your office hurriedly. Traffic had been bad, causing you to be an hour and a half off track. You don't even have time to get your daily coffee and paper at the local store! Despite this, at 11:55, you reach the door to the office and see the doorman who was working the last shift packing his things away... his own coffee included. Before you can start grieving the loss of your morning beverage, he's finished, leaving you to the job.
"Thanks, Henry." you say as the slim man holds the door open for you.
He doesn't reply, but he never does, he's simply not the conversation type.
You sit down, locking the entrance behind you in case of the rare event that a doppelgänger is let through and tries to get into the area.
As the day goes on, you're more and more thankful that you brought a blazer to keep you warm. One thing that a blazer couldn't protect you from, however, was boredom. Nonetheless, you find ways to entertain yourself- like rummaging through draws! In the third compartment in the desk, you find it. Playing cards left by another staff member. Stacking them may be the most last resort method of fun, but anything was better than staring at the clock for eight hours.
15 minutes... You've successfully made one layer consisting of nine cards. It's fallen down a few times, but you think you've learnt a trick to it.
35 minutes... Another layer, this time of six cards was created. Your concentration is completely fixed on this.
40 minutes... One card to go. The feeling of immense victory is already washing over you while you pick up the final card. However, these emotions don't last long as an ID card followed by an entry request slides down the hatch, crashing through your tower. Before you can yell, you realise it's Francis.
"Mmm... Hello." he says, very nonchalantly for someone who's just destroyed a masterpiece.
"How very rude of you, you broke my card tower, Francis." you reply in a joking manner, smiling as you do so.
He doesn't reply, only stares at you, waiting for you to press the button to let him in. You unfold his crinkled entry request.
"First name: Francis
Last name: Mosses
Room: fo2-04
Reason: I am a resident of the building"
"Francis, this isn't your room, is it?"
Silence.
You sigh and slam the danger button, watching the shutter fall down and the alarms scream out for you as you did not have the energy to. Picking up the phone, you reluctantly dial 3312.
The operator responds the same as always, "You have contacted the D.D.D. A group of agents have been sent to your location. Please wait for the cleaning protocol to run."
You put down the phone, feeling guilty even though you know it's a fake. This job really questions your morals.
The shift drags on into blur, and ends just the same. You miss Francis but are comforted by the knowledge you'll get to see him soon.
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...
