The laundry cascaded across the gleaming table. He smiled, watching the rainbow flow out of His hands. The vibrant array of colors, shapes, and sizes all jumbled together always seemed to have a profound effect on Him. Difficult to describe, really. A sort of melancholy feeling, of bittersweet nostalgia, like finding an old photograph and remembering simpler times. This feeling might’ve been normal, or, more normal, if it was at least His laundry. No, His laundry was much less diverse; all His clothes were light blue. Sifting through, He picked out all of the plain t-shirts from the pile, then sorted them by color, red here, blue there, green over there, creating a semicircle in front of Him. Then He stopped, and glanced at the door on the other side of the table. Her door. After a moment of staring at the doorknob, He looked behind Him at His own door, then resumed His work, continuing that same color scheme. Every ten minutes or so, He’d look up, see Her door still closed, and then return to the sorting. He enjoyed the task; while it was repetitive and mindless, it was oddly soothing, and somehow reassuring to be able to hold the clothes. As He worked, a quiet tune began to play in the room, with seemingly no origin. He was unsurprised to hear it, and hummed along to the hypnotic, rhythmic beeps and airy electronic twinkles. The music was constant, but muted, and may not have even been noticed if He was not accustomed to hearing it. As He continued folding, the tune flowed through Him, His heart and hands following the beat. Time passed, until He finally looked up and saw the doorknob across the room turn.

She entered the room. She opened the door slowly, deliberately, and glanced around the room, surveying the walls, ceiling, table, laundry, finally resting Her eyes on Him. He had stopped. Her eyes, emotionless, stared into His, eager. She broke the connection, closed the door, and approached Her side of the shining table, opposite Him. She wore an outfit similar to His, though a light red rather than a light blue. Without speaking, She folded the clothes nearest Her, not touching the plain shirts, only working with the ones with text or designs on them, and made a less organized pile in front of Her. She worked fast, not caring about the incorrect folds or random stacks of clothes She was making. He watched Her. She ignored Him. All that could be heard was the light music playing in the distance, and the motion of Her handling the clothes. He resumed working, less focused, and looked up at her every minute or two. Time passed, until He began to hum along with the music, content.

“Would you stop that?” said She.

He stopped humming, and looked up. “Hm?” asked He.

“Exactly. Stop that,” said She.

“Sorry,” said He.

They resumed working, He a little less enthusiastically. More disappointed. She a little slower. More resigned. The music continued playing, a bit louder and faster, but still soft and distant. Time passed, until She sighed.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” said She.

“What?” He paused, and looked at Her curiously.

“I said I’m sorry. You’re just so… willing. Like you want to be here or something,” said She.

He thought, and replied, “Well, I do. I mean, where else should I be? Out there? Do you remember what it was like? At the end, I mean. No, I’d rather be here than take my chances out there.”

She looked at Him sadly, shaking Her head slightly. “I just can’t believe they’ve gotten to you.” Sighing, She returned to Her work, picking up a white t-shirt with large text on it, folding it, and placing it onto Her pile. He continued to look at Her. Time passed, then He broke the spell.

“Hey. Listen to me,” said He, sharply, but not unkindly. “I know it’s been… hard. Moving in here. Leaving all that behind us. But, come on, it’s not like we had a choice. Besides, is it so bad here? We get protection, we can help with the Restoration, and we can be together. Things could be much worse. We’ve both been through that.”

She crossed her arms, staring at Him, and replied, emphatically, “There is always a choice.” The lights flickered. The music stopped. They looked around curiously, then at each other in fear. The moment passed. The lights returned to normal. The music began again, faster, and louder. She looked back into His eyes, full of emotion. Then Her eyes returned to the laundry, and She said, “And I’m not sure we made the right one.”

They continued their work. He sorted the shirts with colors, She sorted the shirts with designs. The music increased in volume and tempo, now sounding almost like a normal tune, not muffled or slow. The pile of laundry was gradually shrinking as they sorted and folded the shirts. Time passed, until their hands met in the middle of the laundry. Neither looking up, the hands felt around until His was over Hers, and both seemed to relax, if only for a moment. His thumb reassured the back of Her hand, caressing it back and forth. Then the two hands embraced, both squeezing tightly, reminding them of who they once were. She looked up to find His eyes on Her. They both stopped everything and time stood still. They were so absorbed that neither heard the music stop.

They did, however, hear it resume; a deafening BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM began thumping all over, and their hands broke apart to cover their ears. Instantly, the music returned to normal, if not a bit on the louder side. She looked scared. He looked worried. Both quickly returned to work, tossing clothes about with little accuracy. The laundry room was in disarray, and the music was only beating louder, faster, urging them to return to their previous, compliant state of effective obedience. As the BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM rapidly returned, She held Her head in Her hands, headache turning into migraine, and He fared no better. The music pulsed, the walls shook, the lights flashed, She let out a scream, and fell to the ground, clutching Her knees, He ran to the door and pounded upon it, begging for it to open, screaming for the thunder to end-

Silence. The music stopped. The lights returned to normal. Mismatched clothes littered the floor. He backed away from the door, lowering His hands. She remained still on the ground, head down and arms crossed around Her knees. He put His forehead to the door, exhaling, then shook Himself, and walking over to Her. Kneeling, He put His hand on Her shoulder, leaned down, and kissed the top of Her head. Sinking down to Her level, He took Her in His arms, crying softly. She looked up at Him, face pale and eyes red, and wrapped Her arms around Him, weeping.

Time passed.