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̷T̷W̷O
The car arrived out the front of Elodie's apartment a little before 7am. The compact self-driving vehicle came to a smooth stop, expectantly opening its door to beckon her inside. Elodie craned herself upwards to plant a kiss on Lex's mouth, quick and soft.
"Don't wait up if I'm late back."
Lex gave a snort. "I know the drill. Have a good day."
He gave her a soft pat on the shoulder as she turned around, moving towards the car. Slipping inside, the door closed behind her, and she watched through tinted windows as Lex waved at her departure. Elodie let herself relax against the seat, closing her eyes to listen to the soft mechanical whir of the electric car.
This was a route she'd often taken, and she knew by feel alone each curve and bend of the road ahead. She could map it in her mind and imagine the sequences of the streets and neighbourhoods outside as though she'd designed the roads herself.
She'd been a teenager still when she'd moved to Detroit with a suitcase, a high school diploma and the weight of her own determination. She'd used the money she'd saved up from her job in an art shop, before customer service had become largely automated, and had put most of her savings into the deposit for the apartment she still lived in. Elijah had helped her find it, somewhere close, cheap and temporary, but deep down both had known that Elodie would roost wherever she landed for quite some time. Sameness was her way after all and she cared little for upgrades. Optics, as she called them, were pure folly.
The day she had arrived, she'd dumped her suitcase in a corner and caught a taxi to Elijah's. She'd watched the world whisk by in greyscale, a far throw from San Jose which seemed to be bathed in perpetual warmth, feeling excitement building in her chest. Finally she was free, finally she could start doing what she felt had always been her purpose. To slide her feet into the footsteps of her brother and carry forth a legacy built on his sweat and grit.
Elodie had been 7 when she'd watched her older brother pack his bags. She remembered it clearly, standing in the doorway to his bedroom, leaning her cheek against the doorframe as he rolled t-shirts into neat cylinders of cloth.
In the hallways of the squat bungalow, the sounds of their parents arguing bounced off of the walls, a familiar sound but now one that felt more ominous, more foreboding. A door had slammed in the distance, and Elijah glanced upwards, dark brows descending over bright blue eyes. With a sigh, and the purr of the zipper of his suitcase, he stood and walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He'd seemed so big back then, like a giant, a shield. She'd let him pull her into a hug, her childish arms pulling around his mid-section.
