As he didn't get to bed until the middle of the night, it wasn't until the sun really started shining through his window that Michel finally awoke. He grumbled to himself, putting the pillow over his head. When that didn't work, he sighed, and turned over to the other side. And a few more minutes went by after that before he gave up, threw the covers back, and finally stepped out of bed. It had been so cold that night that he hadn't bothered really changing out of the clothes he had been wearing, only taking off his jacket. The morning really wasn't any better. He gave a shiver, rubbing his arms to warm himself while walking over to place on his cabinet where he had a bowl of water. A simple morning routine before starting a fire, he wiped over his face with the cold water, straightened out his hair, and tied on his eyepatch.
It had been a little over a month since his major injury and, being as stubborn as he was, Michel had adapted quickly. He may have been hard on other people, but he had always been just as hard on himself. So, the learning process of what to avoid and how to generally live with one eye was tireless. When the injury had healed enough to wear the eye patch given to him, he almost liked the look, too. Despite the loss of his depth perception, he somehow looked more intimidating than he already did. That was the most optimistic thinking he could do.
It hadn't affected his work at least. His work hours had been extremely irregular ever since most of his customer base began losing their heads, but for the past month he really started trying to pull it together again. He sought out places and actually did manage to find some decent jobs. He even tried to take on a few students in that time, though none took his verbal abuse as well as Mabelle had. Still, he had tried to keep her out of his mind. It was nice to have sole focus back in his work, even if forgetting her entirely had yet to be a possibility. After all, he did wake up to an empty socket each morning. He knew he just couldn't think about it.
Right. So one more thing before starting a fire. He would never really start a day before making his bed. He appreciated having it and he liked keeping everything looking nice. Tossing the two pillows to the side, he straightened the sheets and covers. The problem wasn't until he went to pick up the pillows he had just tossed to the floor. Something was wrong. He only caught it out of the corner of his eye, but it was enough to kneel down a second time for a better look. He was speechless. All he could keep thinking was that he was seeing things, but it didn't change. She was there.