You grasp the mug on the countertop beside you, preferring not to hold it by the handle as to spread the drink's warmth around your hands more efficiently. You presume it must be snowing; many guests (human and doppelgänger) had passed through coated in the stuff. Despite not seeing the weather- you could definitely feel it. Cold, February air seeps through the ventilation system. It causes you to shiver and hope for the hundred thousandth time that they'd fix the radiator in here. As you take a sip of coffee from the cup clasped in your palms, the door opens.
Judging by his hat, a person that must be a milkman trudges in. Posture slanted and brow furrowed, he pushes his ID card into the slot of your office, followed by his entry request.
'First name: Francis
Last name: Mosses
Apartment: fo3-02
Reason: I am a resident of the building.'
You've seen the same layout and reason all day, branded by an official 'Doppelgänger Detection Department' logo. After skimming through the information, you move to his ID card. The details match perfectly and it's even still in date until March 1963. As the final step, you observe his face for anomalies. Although you find none, you do notice how handsome he is despite his unpleasant expression and tired eyes.
His pale skin is complemented by his well-taken-care-of, brown hair- the colour of which could be compared to that of the coffee in your hands. The longer you stare, the more agitated he seemingly becomes.
"Sir? May I enter?" He speaks calmly, yet his irritated expression betrays his tone.
"Er- Yeah, yeah. Sorry."
You squeak out a pathetic apology and push the button to allow him in before hiding you face away in the mug as you take another swig. The milkman continues through the gate as it rises, pieces of snow falling from his hair as he does so.
"Floor three, room two." you mutter to yourself, praying for a swift end to your shift; partially so that you could finally move somewhere warmer, mainly to attempt 'coincidentally ' see that man again.
Just a few more hours.