It's Just So. - TheGentleman x Mr. Cheese

It's Just So.

The Gentleman was in a...car. He didn't recognize this vehicle at all however. He had only just realized moments after that the car was moving across an empty, darkened road. Headlights barely taking effect. He had no control over this car, though he was at the wheel as if he was on autopilot. Driving down an unknown road no knowledge of the purpose, destination, or reason. The Gentleman was clueless if he was alone or not, but one could only assume he was. Just seconds later that was disproved. A familiar voice drifted to his ears, giving him immediate relief.

"We will get there when we get there, Mr. Cheese." without a second passing it seemed that he had replied, but that wasn't what he was going to say... was it? He had said it in such a venomous harsh tone, that can't possibly be how he intended. He tried to apologize and correct himself not even knowing if the other had interpreted the tone like that but he couldn't. And even still, the car just kept driving. Out of his control... just like everything else in this scenario.

All The Gentleman could do was watch the ill-lit windshield rain falling and sliding down the glass. The heater in the car running and creating a sort of white noise. The Gentleman at this point had given up on trying to communicate, all mental attempts fatal. He just hoped that Mr. Cheese wasn't asleep, as it's been quite a bit since he heard him speak.

As he thought this, it seemed right on queue."The Gent-" His associate tried to speak but he unwillingly interrupted. The sound of rain on the windshield got increasingly louder with small rumbles heard from clouds above. "Just be quiet Mr. Cheese, I don't care for your trivial conversations." That seemed too far, he tried to apologize as he started hearing some kind of sobbing. But it was no use, he couldn't. The rain and thundering got more and more intense and suddenly...

...his eyes abruptly opened. It wasn't real. Thankfully, it was a dream. He placed a hand onto his chest feeling his heart beating at a rapid pace then, noticing drops of cold sweat on his forehead. He thought for a moment about what the dream could mean, if anything. But, swiftly reminded himself of what his mentor had told him as a child when he had night terrors; 'Dreams can't possibly mean a thing, they're just scenarios playing in your head.'

with both this in his head and his night terror playing like a broken record, he turned to his side and was expecting to see his associate Mr. Cheese. Talking to him surely would give The Gentleman some comfort. However, as soon as his eyes adjusted to the darkened setting, the spot was empty. He didn't want to start panicking, so he tried to think rationally but the moments from his dream overpowered it all. Maybe he's actually gone.

On top of this, the few attempts he made to get up were useless. His deeper fear with possibility that Mr. Cheese could have left in the middle of the night holding him back. He contemplated if being so emotionally close to him was even worth it. Of course it was. To him at least, but he hated feeling vulnerable.

He had to distract himself, he needed to ground himself. The Gentleman turned to try and read the bedside clock. 2:45 AM. He had barely gotten any sleep so far and unless somebody came to knock him out he wasn't going to get anymore than that, as he never had an easy time both getting to sleep and staying asleep. Unlike Mr. Cheese who's usually out like a light.

After about 5 minutes of laying in the dark debating himself in his head, and without the return of Mr. Cheese, he decided to finally get up and look around. He couldn't have left right? He loved The Gentleman too much to do that. Right? These questions were all he could think of as he uncovered himself sitting up and feeling light headed from the sudden shift, an unpleasant shiver briefly coursing through him after.

He finally stood up and meekly peered through the velvet curtains, pushing them back with gentle hands and furrowed eyebrows. The only thing he could see were dim street lights and the pouring rain reflecting wherever that light hit. With him now slipping on his house shoes, he slowly made his way through rooms and hallways peeking around corners in the dark. At the same time trying to deny what his fears told him were true.