Tomorrow is a New Day

"Today was a boring day." Evan hummed thoughtfully, the soft cushions of the beige couch underneath him lulling him into a somewhat dormant state, the familiar crash of exhaustion that came after a strenous day of work or activities wise.

He wasn't lying about what he said. Today had been an awfully boring day and Evan Miller felt it to be a loss of time in his life, just a little bit...

At least the tea in his hand was good, a little cold from his mind's travelling contemplation, the taste of lavander a little watered down for his liking. But in days like those, those little detaills didn't affect how much enjoyment he got out of drinking a cup of tea while he lied down on his couh, and while it rained outside on what had been the saddest days in March.

The patter of raindrops against the window lulled his eyelids to begin their fall, hand going a little slack on its grip around his cup of-

"Tomorrow's a new day." Replied another voice from across the coffee table that separated the couches in his living space, owned by the blonde figure sitting ramroid straight and nursing his own cup of tea in hand.

"What if tomorrow is like today?" Evan reiterated a little tensely, tapping at the side of his cup repeatedly, a little anxiously, a little frightened by the prospect of falling once again into the dull routine that had made him prisoner in his former job.

Evan shifted a little, letting his head fall to the side so his brown eyes could meet the soft blue ones of the man. "What is it that you do? When work at the doctor's office is boring and the people around you go around in such a mundane way?"

Something changed in the other man's gaze, a delicate joy that crinkled the corners of his eyes in a subjective smile. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I could be much help of that for, I might be boring, but my flatmate is never one to attain to the mundane world."

"Precisely." Came in the third voice, footsteps emerging from the kitchen, heavy footsteps accompanying the tall figure with the billowing wool coat that trailed behind him almost majestically. Evan vaguely remembered one of too many nights from long ago where the blonde had told him that his flatmate was anything but ordinary. Even in a simple walk, Miller could pinpoint just how different the man was.

"Mr. Holmes." Evan watched surprise appear in the blonde's face. "A rare event to see you here. Did you not express your distaste in happenings as such?" The detective in question took a seat and promptly stole the cup of tea the doctor had been nursing for a while, sipping from it silently.

"I still have great distaste for this little activity you so much like to involve yourself in." Mr. Holmes motioned towards the book lying open on the coffee table, the pages remarkably void of words, enveloped in a vague layer of light that shouldn't have been possible of being produced by the object on its own. "I decided it was a must that I intervened before I ceased from breathing. Murder by boredness, wouldn't that be such a humiliating manner for me to pass from?"

Evan merely observed the exchange in silence, blinking from one man to the other as each of them spoke. He secretly berated himself for choosing that specific book, for the gloom that strangled his chest only deepened with the remembrance of the adventures of the pair. People usually chose sci-fi characters to find an escape from the dull reality. Evan, on the other hand, had been in need of those close to the mundane life to be able to speak of the trivial issues that ate at his heart. But as he realized now, the detective and the doctor were just as out of the world as an intergalactic battle.

"-a man dedicated to a field that builds from constant repetition and a dreadful enslavery of workers for the sake of the success of superiors. He clearly decides something more than sitting at a little cubicle and typing away at the so called- what had you called it, Watson? Ah yes, Excel document. His life couldn't be more interesting than observing dirt all day long."

Well thanks. Evan thought a little bitterly. That was just what he needed to cheer up.

"Come on, Holmes. Don't be so harsh on the poor chap, you already see him looking so distraught." The blonde doctor gazed at him a little saddly, with something more besides that, perhaps recognition or familiarity, Evan would never be able to tell precisely.

Mr. Holmes' mouth tightened into a thin line, but as he gave a second glance at the man in question, he let out a long sigh. "Fine, alright, what seems to be the issue, Mr. Miller?"

Evan found himself staring up at the ceiling once again, mouth descending into a weakened grimace, sad, tired, awfully lost.

"My life's boring. I seem to hold no skill that would indicate the possibility of an extraordinary life. Most days are quite bearable, I've got the strength to look at life brightly because I've got a roof over my head and warm meals to fill my empty stomach. However, I seem to realize a lot more, that there will be such point where I won't be able to escape that routine and see no end to it until it is too late." He finished a little tightly, voice straining to form the words without breaking apart. Silence predominated the area, tense, pulled taught and close to snatching.

And then-

"Well the answer seems to be simple enough. It's imperative you extract yourself from the issue and begin from a null point in-"

"Holmes." Warned the doctor.

"-which you've got a blank slate. I diagnose humanity as awfully mundane because saddly, I see no recognition or resistance to said routine that has got you lot chained up so tightly. You, however, Mr. Miller, demonstrate heavy consciousness. Here lies a man with power within his veins that feels himself trapped in a doorless room. You've got no example to follow, no security that pulling yourself out of the routine will be appreciated well enough by others."

Evan startled up a little when the telltale ring of his phone interrupted the detective's monologue. But that didn't quite stop him, on the contrary, it fueled something in the man, guiding him to stand.

"This is precisely where you choose what to do for yourself Mr. Miller. We do not serve the purpose of giving you an answer to your ever present issues, as much do so wrongly. Change begins from within that gray matter sitting inside your skull, and it is only by your own actions that you take yourself in the direction you wish. So what will it be, Mr. Miller?"

Dr. Watson did smile this time, soft and transmitting the same thing the detective had proclaimed just seconds ago.

"Mr. Miller, tomorrow is another day." The blonde repeated, and the three watched the phone's insistence die down only to reappear mere seconds later.

Evan almost tipped over the tea in his cup, scrambling to grab the phone, answer the call that would probably insist over and over again if he didn't reply. It was difficult to press the button to do so when his vision was so blurred and his hands shook with no abandon. He was smiling, small but with some sense of hope that hadn't been there before.

"Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson, I- I-" But he found himself speaking to an empty room, to a book that sat now closed and losing its dim with every passing second.

The man fiddled with the phone, brought it up to his ear as he wiped at his eyes with his sleeve.

"Sir?"

Yes, tomorrow was going to be a new day.