Unlocked (Ida x female reader)

Chatper 1

My alarm goes off and I roll off the bed with a groan, bare feet connecting with the worn carpet.

I'm going to be late if I don't start moving now. I think, rubbing my eyes and looking around my messy room.

I probably should have done laundry yesterday, but I just didn't want to. My apartment, in general, needs a good cleaning. There's always a few dishes in the sink or piles of clothes on the floor, but it's a little out of hand right now. The motivation to get it back in order always seems to elude me.

Stepping over piles of dirty clothes, I get to the pile of clean clothes that lives on a chair in the corner of my room. I call it my 'chairdrobe' since my wardrobe only holds clothes not in my normal rotation and are last resorts when all my dirty clothes are on the floor.

"Coffee first" I grumble to no one as I shuffle to the kitchen, adjusting my necklace that I never take off. It's a small apartment, only one room and a bathroom. The kitchenette has an oven, a sink, a fridge and that's about it. There's not even counter space. I have to do any preparing on the small coffee table at the end of my bed.

I can afford a bigger place, but then my mess would spread to all those different areas and just the thought of cleaning all that exhausts me. I'll keep my small place and spend an hour cleaning it when ever I feel like being less of a gremlin.

There's no TV or couch. No formal living room, but I did squeeze in a bookshelf that has titles bursting off the shelves. They're all well loved and bought from various used book stores and rummage sales. A couple of them are falling apart at the seams. Those are the ones I've reread several times. I don't have the heart to throw them out and buy a new copy.

My phone dings in rapid succession as the coffee pot on my dresser finishes brewing. There's no room in the kitchen area for it.

Martac
You better be awake and on your way.

Martac
I swear if I have to come get you again....

Martac
Are you going to be late?

Martac
If you are, you better be dead.

I can't help it, I smile at my phone.

Y/n
I'm alive and on my way

A half lie. I pour my coffee into a travel mug, fixing it up how I like it and hurriedly pull on black leggings and a plain black t-shirt that doesn't smell too bad. I slip on black sneakers and pull my hair out of my face before pulling on a black jacket. All the blacks match. They have to or I'd go crazy thinking about it all day.

Outside of my apartment, I use my phone to lock my electronic door lock so my quirk doesn't mess with the deadbolt. It a handy but also inconvenient quirk that's always activated. I've had to come up with some interesting work around for it, but it has made sure that I don't have to carry any keys with me which is kind of nice.

"Ye were not on yer way, lass" Martac says grumpily in his Scottish accent, leaning against a street light as I leave my apartment building. I turn and smile at him as I sip my coffee, linking my arm with his as we walk down the sidewalk. I offer him a sip and he glares at me.

Martac is basically a brother to me. He was best friends with my brother until he died a few years ago. Cancer. He suffered for a long time before dying but he never lost his sense of humor. He even made the joke that he was a cancer dying of cancer the last time I saw him. Dark humor that our mother scolded him for, but we still had a good laugh about it when she left the room. I still grieve him most days.

I wasn't there when he died. He took a turn for the worst quickly and I was on a job when he passed. The necklace I wear was his. He left it for me. It's a locket that funnily enough, I haven't been able to open. It can physically open the latch but it's the last secret he had. Opening it would be my final goodbye to him and I'm not ready for that. Not now. Maybe not ever. But that's trauma to mull over another time.