#fictosexual

1880, London.

Pendleton was always a recluse. He kept to himself and his tinkering in his estate, working long nights building away on some project he had planned. He occasionally worked for clientele, building things that have been requested. Some may even call him a genius mind. Or, a weirdo. 

~

Putting his genius aside, Pendleton was only human. He slouched when he walked, his long black hair had a habit of falling into his eyes or his mouth, his eyesight poor, and his apartment quite... lonely. Oh, no no, he didn't have time for something as minuscule as companionship, for he was an inventor! A brilliant mind! Yes, that's true.

~

Or so he thought. As he was people watching one afternoon, he noticed someone had finally moved into the apartment level with his across the street. That previous owner, boy was she strange. But enough about her, let's get back on topic. He could see that the person who moved in had very little boxes to unpack, and appeared short in stature. Very uninteresting, let's get back to tinkering, shall we?

~

That's the door! Pendleton rushed to open the door, eager that his parts had arrived. He was then met with the short man from across the street, carrying some crates with a clipboard hanging from his waist and a pencil behind his ear. Pendleton grabbed the crates out of his hand and settled them down in a corner next to his front door. "Sign here please, sir." The man spoke, holding out the clipboard and pencil. He had a slight accent, he was from New York, maybe? Nevermind that, he signed the paper and nodded him off as he shut the door, catching the small 'Have a good day' the man left him with.

~