One hour, six minutes, nineteen seconds.
One hour, six minutes, eighteen seconds.
One hour, six minutes, seventeen seconds.
The little black timer against Nora's wrist ticked down the seconds - seconds that felt like a hundred years each. Each time her golden eyes drifted down to those little numbers the entire world seemed to slow, the buzz of Goodneighbour filtering out until it was only her and that little built in clock.
"Staring at your wrist again? It's not gonna go any faster just because you keep glaring at it."
Nora didn't look up; not even as the sofa bounced and a pair of skinny legs threw themselves across her knee. She just huffed, heart fluttering, and watched as the clock shifted another second.
One hour, five minutes exactly.
"Fuck, the way you've been pining away, I hope your soulmate isn't a letdown. Na, I bet they're great. The Preston type - all tall and dashingly handsome but a real nice guy too. Seems like someone you'd go for."
Finally Nora's eyes flickered up and her lips pursed into a frown - until he gaze settled on the grin that split across Hancock's face. His own gaze was hazy - jet, probably - but the grin stretched across taught, ghoulish skin was unmistakable. It brought a little lopsided smile to her own face; though it didn't help the queasiness settling in her stomach. "Shut up, Hancock," she replied, voice warm - and socked him in the shoulder.
"Ouch! Hey, you-"
"It's what you get for teasing me!" Nora replied - and as she stretched out to flick the faded tricorn adorning his head her sleeve fell down, hiding her soulmark from view. "Don't be a dick."
"I wasn't," he replied, and his lips formed a pout, "but you've been thinking about that damned soulmark all week, and you're acting like your mother just died or something."
Okay, so she was moping. She had every right! She shouldn't even have this chance - she was two hundred years out of time. How was her soulmate still even alive? Unless there was some other cryo vault hidden somewhere, she didn't see how it was possible. Unless. Oh! Realisation sparked in her brain and it was so obvious.
"My soulmate's a ghoul!" The words tumbled from her lips almost before they registered in her own mind - and then her lips curved, grinning so widely it hurt. "Everything makes so much sense!"
"You what now?" Hancock replied - and he quirked the remnants of one sparse blonde brow, hazy eyes regarding her as if she wasn't quite there.
Nora shoved him again, tiny hands gently pushing against a boney shoulder. "I didn't understand how my soulmate was still alive after all this time. Like maybe it was a glitch or something. But they might be a pre war ghoul!"
Dark eyes narrowed, lips pursing as Hancock raised a hand to his chin - but then they widened, a small huff of breath leaving his lips. "Ooohh, yeah, could be." Hancock perched himself on his elbows, peering at Nora from underneath the shadow of his tricorn. There was a lazy grin spread across his lips that spelled trouble. "You're gonna find out in an hour. You want something to take the edge off?"
A snort left her mouth, sarcastic response on the tip of her tongue - but really, he was just trying to help in the best way he knew how. "I'm fine, Hancock. You know the worst I do is alcohol."
"You're loss," he replied with a quiet chuckle - and as he collapsed back onto the sofa with a grunt, a bright red inhaler appeared in his hands. Nora watched idly as he took a drag, inhaling deeply, and let his eyes slip closed.
And that was all she was getting out of him tonight.
Nora sat there for a moment, bouncing her leg despite the fact Hancock's own legs were tossed across her lap. Silence enveloped her and usually it was soothing, the quiet in the State House, but it was too much. Short fingers added to the jittering legs, tapping against the worn arm of the sofa. She had to get out of there. Clear her head, breathe fresh air, anything.
Besides, she wasn't going to meet her soulmate holed up here - not unless someone came storming in looking for Hancock. Which, admittedly, wasn't entirely impossible.
She cast Hancock a glance - and even in the dimness of the evening, with only candles to illuminate his ghoulish face, Nora knew he was gone. Must have been nice, letting jet take away all his troubles.
With a heavy sigh and a flutter in her chest, Nora gently moved his legs away; he muttered something she couldn't quite hear and she replied by patting his knee and whispering, "I'm heading to the third rail. See you tomorrow."
She left him there in his own little world, daydreaming about whatever the hell it was Hancock dreamed about. Probably sex - or more chems. Or sex while on chems. But Nora's mind was only on one thing.
As she grabbed her leather jacket from its little peg, her eyes dipped down to her soulmark. Fifty-seven minutes, one second. For a brief moment she let her fingers trace across the numbers, hand twitchy and jittery. Then her soulmark disappeared from view, hidden from the world as she shrugged on her coat and lurched open the enormous doors.
The breeze hit her immediately; a cool, fresh feeling that washed over her skin, stinging her cheeks. That restless energy churning inside of her ebbed away if only for a moment, carried away by the wind.
Sucking in a deep breath, she hurried across the dilapidated town - until finally she found herself slipping into the almost stifling heat of the Third Rail.
Ham greeted her silently as he always did; just a nod and the tiny quirk of an almost-smile. Then she descended the broken elevator, path lit by tiny candles.
Magnolia stood where she always did, sequined dress glinting in the low light and her voice drifting through the cramped room. Just hearing that beautiful melody made Nora sigh - and it felt like Magnolia's voice was seeping into her very bones. Even if she wasn't in for a drink, just being there made her spirits brighter.
"Care for a drink?" Whitechapel Charlie questioned in that painfully English accent - and it made Nora smile as she hoisted herself onto a bar stool. "You're usual, I take it?"
"Thanks, Charlie." Nora didn't mention that she wasn't really there to drink - but she slipped onto the stool anyway, crossing her legs even though it made the high waist of her jeans dig into her stomach. At least it stopped her from jostling her leg. Still, she tapped her fingers against the bar top as she gazed across the room, eyes searching each unfamiliar face - for a spark of recognition maybe, or a glimpse of a timer matching her own.
No one gave her a second glance. If her soulmate was there, it wasn't time yet anyway.
Suddenly something cool was pressed into her hands an she turned, brows raised. When her eyes snapped down, there was a glass of wine clutched in her slender hands.
"That tapping is getting quite irritating. May I suggest you don't disturb the other patrons." Charlie couldn't quirk a brow or pull his lips into a frown - but his words, accented by that English voice, were enough.
Ducking her head, Nora ignored the little stutter in her chest. "Of course. Sorry." She managed an embarrassed smile as her eyes darted down to her drink; a glass of red wine, something far too fancy for Goodneighbour - or the Commonwealth in general, really. But sometimes it was nice to just indulge in her old world habits. Nora curled her hand around the stem of the glass, relishing in how cool it felt against her palms. When she took a sip of the dark liquid, a small sigh escaped her lips.
Maybe after another few of these, she would loosen up enough to stop worrying. Yeah, because meeting her soulmate while totally trashed was an excellent idea.
Instead of gulping it down like she so wanted to, Nora took another sip, savouring the acidic - and, honestly, slightly stale - taste as the chatter of the bar echoed behind her. She found her shoulders relaxing, the tension draining from her body as she listened to the idle gossip of a table behind her - and she couldn't make out the words, not really, but it was so nice to hear two people enjoying themselves. Maybe, in just over an hour, that might be her and her soulmate.
Eventually the bustle of the Third Rail drifted to the back of her mind, the mingling of voices and footsteps fading until it was only a background buzz. Her glass of wine slowly drained; though she didn't ask for another.
The next time she allowed herself to glance down at the little black numbers on her wrist, she found her hands hovering just above her sleeve. She just couldn't force herself to peel it back, couldn't force herself to read those numbers. She sucked in a breath, pushing down the butterflies squirming in her stomach and braced herself.
Four minutes and eight seconds.
Her cheeks, already dusted pink from the warmth of the bar, flushed scarlet. She had wasted almost an hour here and it was so close, less than half an hour away! What was she supposed to do? Stay here and let her soulmake come to her, or try to look for the person she had no name or face for? What if she did go looking and then they came here, and she missed them entirely?
Her stomach rolled and her chest fluttered, the anxiousness settling deep in her gut. The alcohol hadn't helped; even just one drink had that familiar lightheaded feeling descending upon her. Swallowing thickly, she pushed the empty glass away and hauled herself to her feet. She didn't know what to do - but she did know that staying was going to drive her crazy.
Magnolia's soft voice drifted across the Third Rail as Nora moved past a group of men chattering away - and she sounded so beautiful, so ethereal that even if Nora didn't know the song, it seemed to whisk away all of her unease. By the time she passed Magnolia's little makeshift stage she was left with a soft smile across her lips and a lightness in her chest.
Trust Magnolia to always help, even if she wasn't aware of it.
Nora's dark eyes skimmed across Magnolia and for a moment their eyes locked - Magnolia smiled and it was almost as if she knew, but Nora hadn't spoken a word of her timer to anyone except for Hancock. Even so, Nora found a beaming smile cross her lips as she raised her hand for a wave.
And then Magnolia went back to her song, voice as sultry and gorgeous as ever, and Nora was left alone inside the crowded bar.
She tugged her sleeve down across her soulmark and wondered if perhaps Magnolia had seen it peeking from underneath the thick leather jacket. Soft features scrunched as she let her eyes rove across the room, darting from one unfamiliar face to the next as her pulse thundered in her ears. She felt too hot, cheeks flushed and blood boiling in her veins, sweat clinging to the inside of her thick leather jacket.
Nora wasn't even aware that she was moving until she felt her hand clutch the cool elevator banister. The metal was firm under her iron grip, quickly warming from the heat of her sweaty palm. Gasping out a breath, Nora all but collapsed against the stairs as her entire body was drained of every last drop of strength.
When she finally looked up her eyes rested on Ham at the top of the elevator - letting out a shaky breath, she gave him a wave.
"Too much to drink?" he questioned - and even though he was as stoic as ever, there was the faintest hint of a laugh in his gruff voice.
If only he knew that was the opposite of her issue.
"I'm fine," she replied - but her voice shook, and she wondered if he had even heard from all the way up there. She took a moment to straighten out and brush down her hair - which she was sure was a sweaty, crumpled mess - before slowly climbing the steps to stand by Ham's side.
He raised the remnants of a brow in question, but his face remained like stone. "You don't smell of alcohol. You had jet?"
"No," Nora replied, and her eyes dipped to the floor, "I'm just... preoccupied with something." She tugged down her sleeve again even though the leather came down almost to her fingertips. At least this enormous old hand-me-down from Preston was good for something. "I'm not here to cause trouble."
"Good." Ham just nodded - and just like that, the conversation was over.
Which meant Nora had two choices; wander around outside in the hopes she found her soulmate, or go back downstairs and have another drink. Even if the latter sounded great, Nora's legs made the decision for her; carrying her to the double doors of the Third Rail and then outside, where cool evening air hit her face and the dim streetlights cast her in a gentle yellow glow.
Nora only made it one step before she felt her shoulder smack into something sturdy, hard, and decidedly person-shaped.
At precisely that same second Nora's mind lit up, her skin aflame, and she felt the little ding of her timer hitting zero.