thoughts in the night

A shadow of a figure stood atop a tall building, shrouded by darkness, peering down at the city below. Its eyes glistened in the night, appearing to glow. This figure, being Edward Hyde, hopped down to a lower roof, head looking down in thought.

He had been going out like this for a few weeks now, almost every other night. It was nice, letting go of himself, being free for a night. Being Edward Hyde, instead of the Henry Jekyll he was used to.

He'd never thought too much about it, about this separation between himself and... his other self. They were one in the same, weren't they? Only separated by time and appearance (and of course the potion).

His changed appearance had been a comfort to him. It was what made it so he was able to do whatever he pleased, without keeping up his facade. He also just... enjoyed this form, preferring to be in the body of Hyde. Maybe it was just because there was an association between it and being free. To most people, it wouldn't seem like something someone would want to look like. That would explain it.

Though, sometimes, he felt as if there was some other shift than just in countenance. There were times when he didn't truly feel like Jekyll, just operating under the mask of Hyde, but more of a disconnection, feeling as if he were just Edward Hyde, without the Jekyll underneath. He didn't feel like himself.

It was odd. It wasn't a constant, nor was it that bad, but it was strange. A queer feeling, really. During these times he seemed less concerned with his affairs as Jekyll, with more of an intense focus on whatever he was doing that night.

He could still, of course, remember being Jekyll, everything he did, as much as his memory allowed him. But it didn't entirely feel like him who was in these memories. This had happened both ways as well, with Jekyll sometimes viewing Hyde in the same way. He seemed to act slightly different in these times too, being more reckless and impulsive (more so than usual).

The more he thought about this specifically, the more he stressed about why this was happening. His foot started tapping rapidly against the rooftop, while he was standing in place. He'd assumed it had something to do with the potion, but there hadn't been any large mental changes caused by it. Maybe he was just imagining things, some trick by his conscience to feel less guilt about what he was doing? He was gripping his arms now, staring down at the ground. His thoughts seemed to be on the same repeat, over and over.

He put his head in his hands trying to snap out of it, and when he opened his eyes, noticed that the world had become lighter, the sun now beginning to rise. He'd been out longer than he realized. It was his time to head back.

He tightly shut his eyes, trying to calm himself down. He exhaled, breath shaking, before reorienting himself. Glancing around, he spotted the place he was looking for, and started his way with the sun to his back.