Face to Face.
Tony sat on his bed, his posture straight and proper, his gloved hands on his lap. He watched his clocks, all different colors, shapes and sizes from years of collecting and fixing them.
He stared at every small moment of the hands, listening to nothing but the echo of ticks, tocks and clock gears grinding.
Despite all of these clocks, he would still triple-check his pocket watch to ensure they were all right, telling him it was still five minutes before 'The Notebook' would meet him.
The Notebook was his very best friend and they had been so for years. They were genderfluid, so fluid that their feelings of gender would change day by day.
They had struggled for years to find a name that it could feel comfortable with, no matter how they felt about their gender, until they came up with 'The Notebook.
' For short, they were called Notebook.
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