KILLING TIME | ❝Wasting time would mean we sat and did nothing. Killing time meant we lived until there was nothing but us. Nothing around, not even time. Because we killed it, and there wasn't enough.❞
POST: DR. STRANGE | STEPHEN STRANGE
A HERO OF...
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CHANTELLE HADN'T SEEN THE SUN IN THE PAST TWO DAYS. It wasn't anything new, really, as it was a common occurrence whenever she was far behind schedule on deadlines she had been aware of nearly half a month in advance, but while she generally liked having things finished early on, there were the times when she had to lock herself in her room and refuse sleep and any other sustenance besides coffee to make a deadline. She always did, in the end, even with only two minutes to spare.
She woke to the curtains in her room being viciously torn open, sunlight pouring in and dancing across her eyelids, branding red into her eyes. She whined, tossing around so her face was buried in her pillow, shaking her head.
She felt a pair of hands push her shoulder and she batted them away, shaking her head. The hands persisted, however, and she frowned, turning her head—thankfully away from the sun—to find her roommate looking down at her with a bemused expression, a coffee mug in hand.
Chantelle raised her flat palm, the tips of her fingers pressed against her chin before moving forward. "Thank you."
Amanda made a face as if to brush aside her thanks, making small circles with both her hands and moving them in small side-to-side motions. "No problem."
Chantelle yawned, blowing over her coffee, glancing up to see Amanda explain to her that it was already cooled down, which had her heart soaring. After taking a long sip, she moved to check the time, grinning when she saw that she had slept in well into the afternoon; at least she got some sleep.
She looked up to Amanda who giggled, moving to sit across from her at the foot of her bed, tilting her head. Chantelle smiled back, feeling the same warm, fuzzy feeling she always did whenever she saw her roommate.
The two had met when Chantelle first moved back to New York, staying with her parents temporarily until she found a roommate. She had gone to volunteer at the same center she still did to raise awareness and support youths with disabilities and had bumped into Amanda, who was, and still is, one of the main heads keeping the organization running. The two had become fast friends, Amanda taking a great interest in Chantelle's work, and Chantelle ecstatic to find someone who didn't comment on her hearing aids with pity or shock.
Speaking of hearing aids, she glanced towards her nightstand, relaxing when she saw they were still in place. Though, considering all she had was Amanda, who had been Profoundly Deaf since birth, she didn't need to rush to put them in.
"Did you meet your deadline?" Amanda asked, catching her attention, and Chantelle nodded, sighing with relief, collapsing back onto her covers.
"With ten minutes to spare," she replied, shaking her head as she looked towards her large working desk that held her graphics tablet and large monitor which were shut off for the time being, but would no doubt be turned back on by the end of the day.
"You should relax, go on a walk," Amanda suggested, motioning towards Chantelle's closet which hadn't been opened since a week before her deadline.
