11 - Half, pt. 8

  When Eve woke up, awoken by the sound of a door closing, she felt almost hung over, like she'd been hit by a bus. She couldn't remember anything for a moment; but then the realization slammed into her, and she lay in bed, eyes open to the ceiling, holding back fresh tears.
   She forced herself into a sitting position and slipped her legs out from underneath the covers, placing them on the floor. She stood up uneasily and shook her head to clear it. When she glanced at the nearby bedside table, she noticed that something had been placed on it - a chipped teacup filled with brownish liquid. Tea. She reached for it, wrapping her fingers around it. It was still hot, and steam rose from the surface. 
   About a foot away from the bedside table was a tall black room divider. One end was against the wall, and it stretched a little ways past the edge of her bed. Directly across from the foot of the bed was a window, heavily curtained. After taking a sip of the tea, which was prepared well for her liking, she walked to the window and pushed the curtain open a little. The sun had risen long ago. It appeared to be late in the morning. In the distance, she could see the city, all chrome and glass and heat, and she had no desire to go there, like she always had when she was little. 
   She closed the curtain, turned on the lamp, and sat back down on the bed, still holding the tea. Although she felt exhausted, she was restless in the room. She let her mind wander and thought about Doc and Silas. She wondered if Doc had returned and who had placed the tea on her nightstand. 
   She suddenly recalled that she had been woken up by a closing door. She looked at the door nearby. She should venture out, see who was home. Or maybe they'd come to check on her. 
   Instead of leaving, she decided to explore the room. It was a good size, but she hadn't seen what was beyond the room divider. After putting her tea down and rubbing her eyes, she stepped around it and flicked on a light switch that her fingers grazed when she placed her hand on the wall. In the corner was a bookshelf, full of old tomes and volumes. Near that was a desk cluttered with papers and writing utensils. She walked over to it excitedly to examine the items. They were nearly all blueprints, intricate designs etched onto the paper with tiny block letters labeling each component of the structure on the paper. They were intriguing. Eve thought she'd like to learn how to make them. 
   She looked up from the desk. A few other odd items lay at points throughout the room, like an obviously ancient computing device on a pedestal, but it was all done together in a way that made the room seem cozy and welcoming. Everything in the house, it seemed, was substantially behind the most recent technological advancements. Everything was old - old lights, old wallpaper, old furniture, old home. But Eve liked it, everything about it - even the strange musky smell. 
   Restless, she looked toward the door. She would continue exploring the room later; for now, she was too interested in seeing where Doc and Silas were for her to concentrate. 
   She laid a hand on the cool doorknob and turned it sharply. It resisted slightly, but then easily gave, and she pushed open the thin door. She had hoped to make a silent entrance, but the sound of the creaky doorknob paired with the whine of the door hinges hat probably abolished that idea.