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He felt as if he was going mad.
Thankfully, however, Mohinder was quite certain it had less to do with his formula and its ravaging effects and more to do with the fact that he hadn't left the loft in somewhere nearing a week. Between his increasingly desperate attempts to cure what ailed him and the growing paranoia that someone had seen or heard his altercation with his neighbor and land the police at his door, he hadn't felt right leaving the apartment. The fact that ghastly rash he'd been suffering from had spread from his arms to his hands didn't help matters, either. Regardless of his reasoning for staying in, though, the fact remained the same -- he was going rather stir crazy.
Shooting a longing look at the door, he rearranged the papers on his desk, trying very hard not to look at his hands -- though his stomach twisted in revulsion in spite of his best efforts -- and got to his feet. He hesitated, making a half-hearted effort to talk himself out of going, citing all the reasons he had stayed in for so long in the first place, then made for the door in spite of them, not even bothering to take the time to shrug out of his lab coat. He was out on the street in a matter of seconds, having taken the stairs possibly a bit too fast, and moved away from the building, hands stuffed into his pockets just in case, drifting idly, grateful for the coolness of the night.
He stopped just inside Central Park, taking a deep breath and thinking nothing of the fact that it nearly hurt to draw air -- it was mid-October, after all, and he'd noted a thin sheen of frost on the cars he'd passed on his way here -- and closed his eyes. For a moment, for the first time this whole mess had started, he felt almost at peace; it was shattered by the scuff of sneakers on the cement just a few feet behind him.
( Eyes snapping open, he wheeled on his heels and found himself face to face with a rather haggard looking man. )
Muse: Mohinder Suresh
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 3182
Thankfully, however, Mohinder was quite certain it had less to do with his formula and its ravaging effects and more to do with the fact that he hadn't left the loft in somewhere nearing a week. Between his increasingly desperate attempts to cure what ailed him and the growing paranoia that someone had seen or heard his altercation with his neighbor and land the police at his door, he hadn't felt right leaving the apartment. The fact that ghastly rash he'd been suffering from had spread from his arms to his hands didn't help matters, either. Regardless of his reasoning for staying in, though, the fact remained the same -- he was going rather stir crazy.
Shooting a longing look at the door, he rearranged the papers on his desk, trying very hard not to look at his hands -- though his stomach twisted in revulsion in spite of his best efforts -- and got to his feet. He hesitated, making a half-hearted effort to talk himself out of going, citing all the reasons he had stayed in for so long in the first place, then made for the door in spite of them, not even bothering to take the time to shrug out of his lab coat. He was out on the street in a matter of seconds, having taken the stairs possibly a bit too fast, and moved away from the building, hands stuffed into his pockets just in case, drifting idly, grateful for the coolness of the night.
He stopped just inside Central Park, taking a deep breath and thinking nothing of the fact that it nearly hurt to draw air -- it was mid-October, after all, and he'd noted a thin sheen of frost on the cars he'd passed on his way here -- and closed his eyes. For a moment, for the first time this whole mess had started, he felt almost at peace; it was shattered by the scuff of sneakers on the cement just a few feet behind him.
( Eyes snapping open, he wheeled on his heels and found himself face to face with a rather haggard looking man. )
Muse: Mohinder Suresh
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 3182
