There has definitely been better days for the Austrian. To say things have been rough would be an understatement. He hasn’t had work to do at the university and the few online courses he has are pre recorded and he doesn’t have to actively be present for them. This had led to not really keeping up appearances because why bother when no one else is going to see your face. Roderich wasn’t a man with a lot of facial hair growth but he could get a pretty covering 5 o’clock if he didn’t shave for two weeks––it was way past that since he had a proper shave. Not only was he unshaven but he most likely walked around at home in pyjama bottoms and a shirt that could use a good wash and steamed to make it that usual crispness his clothes usually were. To complete the look his hair was in serious need of a hair cut as it curled around his templates, ears and neck, and partially hidden beneath his bangs were dull eyes clad in heavy bags from lack of sleep.
This was just one of those days where he walked between the different rooms of his flat. Either lying in his bed, listening to music, walking to the kitchen to check the refrigerator for food only to make a mental list of what he needed to buy but then forgetting it and go out to the balcony for a smoke. In darker periods he even tried to play the piano since it always used to be a good way for him to sort out his emotions and thoughts but he would often end up just pressing a chord over and over again for ten minute before realising that he wasn’t doing anything progressive and therefore stopped to do something else.
Roderich was currently on his back in his living room, on the floor next to the sofa. His head was a bit dizzy and the floor for some reason felt safer. It was eerily quiet. No music, no tv, no neighbours could be heard. He snorted to himself as he most likely imagined the sound of a doorbell.
