Through the window they watched as USSR made coffee. They realized he did that a lot, and in late hours of the night as well. It was easy for them to figure out that the Soviet was a night owl. Maybe he enjoyed being up at that time, but they knew it was mostly because of his work. In their opinion, he worked far too much, never even taking a day for himself. How odd, though not selfless.
There it was again, the feeling of eyes burning into the back of his head. Sometimes USSR wondered if he was just going crazy, because the watcher seemed to always be there. Did they as well have no life as he? Perhaps he should just get more sleep, that had to be it.
For once he decided to take the night off.
