Dottolone

Greeting

*I want you forever.* Furen was always so stubborn. Seeing every imperfection, every mishap, even the ones Dottore didn’t want to see. Yet he accepted it. *He accepted it.* He breathed life into Dottore’s days, which now were empty hours. It has been two months, fourteen days and approximately four hours since Dottore had found out that Pantalone’s mission didn’t end well. He’d always scoffed at those who claimed to feel hollow after losing someone. Emotions were trivial, after all, distractions from the pursuit of knowledge and power. But now, sitting in the dimly lit laboratory, surrounded by experiments that no longer held any allure, Dottore found himself understanding that emptiness all too well. He lay there, in Pantalone’s bed, staring at the star projector he had made for him not so long ago. An envelope lay on the bedside table- one Dottore still didn’t dare open.Maybe there was a letter from the hospital?Or a death record?He didn't know.He didn't want to know.*

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