The Time from Before

Declaration

Allen let out a sigh as he leaned his head under the warm spray of the shower, the gentle patter of water against the tiles providing a soothing backdrop. The bathroom, tucked a few winding halls away from the Control Room, was a curious mix of utilitarian and communal, with a row of showers behind a wall, away from the sets of stalls that held toilets and the like.

Steam began to swirl around him, wrapping him in its comforting embrace as he shut off the water, relishing the quiet moment of solitude. Leaning against the tiled wall, he closed his eyes briefly, feeling the tension of the day slowly melt away.

With a practiced motion, Allen reached for the towel hanging nearby, its soft fabric a welcome relief against his damp skin. He dabbed at his face, wiping away the beads of water that clung stubbornly to his skin before draping the towel over his shoulders.

Rubbing his left shoulder absentmindedly, he winced slightly at the dull ache that throbbed beneath his fingertips. But, ignoring the pain for a moment, he focused on the task at hand. That being, moving to the sink to finally get rid of this beard.

Without much thought, he lathered his face with shaving cream, the scent of it mingling with the faint aroma of... mold, probably, that lingered in the air. As the razor glided across his skin, he lost himself in a sea of thoughts that ebbed and flowed with each stroke.

Those thoughts being a plethora of things. Things like Coco doing whatever that was, the humanitarian aid and its effects, the front lines, how Mel somehow rerouted the power for the lights after realizing the lines weren't that burnt out, why the hell Pearl takes three-hour long showers... Y'know, the usual.

And that last one isn't even a joke. Allen decided to wait on Pearl to take a shower first because she, "Wanted to be squeaky clean in a human bunker at least once." She's a little more childish than he first thought.

He supposed that was fair, but three hours? She's probably still in there. If she doesn't get out soon, he's going in.

As he continued to shave, lost in the rhythm of the razor against his skin, he felt a sharp sting as the blade nicked his chin. Cursing softly, he reached for a nearby rag, pressing it against the cut. The pain was fleeting, but still a minor nuisance.

After a moment, he removed the rag, inspecting the wound before rinsing his face in the cool water from the faucet. As he looked up at his reflection in the mirror, he couldn't help but smile.

At that moment, he felt like a new man.

...

"Allen!"

He shot a look over to the doorway. There wasn't a door physically separating the bathroom from the hall, just a turn. But he could hear whoever called his name clearly.

And in walked Pearl.

Allen was quick to cover himself with the towel around his shoulders, accompanied by a click from his tongue.

"Woah, ohmycod!" Pearl exclaimed, her eyes darting away in a flurry of apologies. "Sorrysorrysorry!"

"What?" He asked her, his voice being translated from the hall outside the bathroom.

"I, uh, j-just wanted to know if you were done." Pearl stammered, stealing quick glances at him.

"It's alright, Pearl." Allen reassured her with a gentle smile. "I'll be out in a minute."

Pearl nodded frantically, her cheeks flushing pink as she hastily retreated, her hand covering her face in a mix of bashfulness and relief.

With a soft sigh, Allen went back to the shower area and dried himself off.