Daffodils - SCP Foundation

Agent Ben Green’s endured a quiet life. A routine - up, work, home, maybe unwind. Bed. Up. Repeat. A step above a recluse - not a hermit, or a miser. But somebody who found contentment in solitary.

Field Agents don’t talk much about love or relationships. Even when they’re attached, they don’t talk about it. Nobody wants to jinx their happiness. The lucky go and retire and move on with their lives. But not everyone is lucky to enjoy that; most end up haunted in one way or another.

He found himself lucky, though. Not haunted, or aching for other. He never yearned for a companion in his youth, but now he found his centre. His home.

And tonight Agent Ben Green laid by himself, the moonlight filtering through his blinds. It was a full moon, bright and clear. His favourite sort of scene. Serene, lonesome. Maybe peaceful. Outside, the squeak as a rabbit was snapped by an owl. Quiet. The breeze carried the squeak away.

Idle thoughts and worries passed through his mind in the dark. Thoughts of his life, the Foundation, the future… Where could he go from here? Of course, once he found contentment and happiness, something was going to drive a wedge in it. Of fucking course that’s how it has to be. That’s how it usually is in this Foundation.

He put that out of his mind. More important things were happening.

“… tonight’s a good night,” he sighed.

“Yeah.”

“… I hope we can have a few more like this.”

Green looked across his bedroom, to the chest of drawers, to the mirror hung behind it. He looked into his eyes, then over to his own, their fingers winding together.

They fell at first sight. A true spark. A connection, that nobody else could ever have. Or ever would, really.

“… the world is ending, you know,” his voice mused, squeezing tight.

“… Is it really though?” his own voice answered.

Green nestled into himself, and tried to forget the outside.