Edgar went back to fiddling with his bits and pieces, the world seeming to dim around him. It was just him and his creation. Even Jenny seemed to have less of an influence on his mind.
He continued working for a second, then paused, looking up at her. Something seemed to leave his eyes, a fixation mixed with passion. He smiled at her. “What do you need?”
Am I the only one that sometimes feels an underlying depression? Like unless there’s something actively making me feel something else I just feel depressed.
This has been going on for…a week? Something like that.
Honestly, I think that's kind of what depression is. It doesn't mean you never feel anything else, it just means that you return to those feelings persistently for a long time.
He grinned just as stupidly back. His hair was greasy, almost like he had put some of the oils he used to clean machines in it. Not the best look, but fitting for a child of Hephaestus.
He began building something again.