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He'll Always Have Paris

He'll Always Have Paris
by
Joseph Devon
The swinging doors slammed open. Cedric looked over from where he was sitting on a lab stool,
chewed thumbnail between his teeth. His shoulder length blond hair was coated with the shine of
someone who has only wet their hair down and not washed. His red streaked eyes were a sure
sign of his having been recently woken up.
He watched Dorian backing h is way through the doors pulling a gurney behind him. "Dorian,"
Cedric said, then immediately fell silent as Dorian turned around. There was panic in Dorian's
eyes and a waxy pallor beneath the stubble on his face that betrayed a lack of sleep.
"Dorian," Cedric said again, that one word betraying multiple emotions: a layer of fear spread
over top concern for his friend, concern for his own wellbeing, and simple anger at letting
himself become invo lved in this.
"Hook her up," Dorian said before moving to a lab stool of his own and sliding a keyboard
across the table to rest in front of him, his fingers impatiently tapping the spacebar while he
waited for the monitor to respond. With a hiccup of light the screen became active making
Dorian's face even more hollow with its sickly glow. He was normally a handsome man with
short brown hair that was always perfectly combed. Tonight, though, it was full of unruly licks
and his white lab coat, which usually added to his presence as the overall leader of their research
team, was cast by the computer's light into awkward shades of green and blue. A large coffee
stain down the front appeared to still be wet. Cedric didn't respond.
"I said hook her up," Dorian said.
"Dorian," Cedric said for the third time.
"I said hook her up!" Dorian screamed and Cedric jumped forward to the gurney. Coffee stain or
no coffee stain, Dorian was a commanding presence.
Cedric hadn't turned on any lights when he had arrived at the lab, partly because his still sleepy
eyes had been craving the dark, and partly out of some deeper sense of wanting to remain
hidden. He gripped the cool metal rails of the gurney and began wheeling it towards the corner
that contained the only real source of brightness in the room in the form of three light stands
hovering over two parallel stainless steel tables. They each rested in front of a large circular
opening in the wall and were on tracks which would let the tables slide into these separate
openings.
Cedric slowed the gurney down and wheeled it into place next to one of the tables. He looked
over at Dorian, now leaning back and typing furiously on the keyboard, and decided not to ask
for help lifting her onto the table right now. Nibbling on his thumbnail Cedric decided that he
could start attaching the required instruments and transfer her later. He was too scared to
interrupt Dorian again to ask for help.
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