Lonely

<- POV - Martin Blackwood ->

When I entered the archives I was met with a nice small blast of cold air. I welcomed the small cool bit of air. Outside the archives was much warmer than what it normally is. All the lights inside the archives were off, going over towards the light switch I turned them on. The lighting to the place didn’t do much to light the place but it was still a decently bright light. 

I walked further into the archives. The light illuminated the walls of filled shelves. Not far into my descent I met with three desks in a wide open area.

The area looked like it could place a couple more desks, but they were too lazy to actually put them in, but most of the room was slightly piled up with different folders that we are going through. Working our way to sort through the whole mess. The three desks that were present looked almost the same, except the ideas that they all stored on top of them made them look like they weren't. All three desks were put close together, but not close enough to make the person sitting feel cramped.

Each of the desks had a different kinda feel to them. The first one. Sasha's desk gives the feel of a more calculated person. Her area was nice and clean, with all the papers for her research in a few neat piles. On top of each pile was a sticky note, marking them for what place they will be sorted into later (If she got to that part yet). The other items she had scattered on her desk would be stuff you might see on just a casual work person, a few photos laid out in picture frames. Some images held personal friends and family. Others held all of us, Jon, Tim, me and her. Near the edge but not close enough to where it gets touched a little bit it’ll be knocked off, there is a vase, full of purple asters.

The next desk was Tim’s. His desk could be seen as the messiest out of the three assistants. Although it is still messy it's not messy in the sense of messy-messy, but more in the sense of cluttered messy. Tim had probably the least amount of paperwork set on his desk. Tim’s laptop was laying on his desk. Behind his closed laptop was many different kinds of picture frames. Many were filled out with past photos of family and friends. There was a couple that had just Tim and Sasha, or them with a more happier Jon. It was nice to look at. It puts a small smile on my face wherever I look at it. There were other things scattered around his desk, like different color pens or highlighters, or just sticky notes filled out with work notes and little doodles.

The last desk was mine, I didn’t have much placed there. All that could be spotted on my desk is a ripped picture that shows my mother and a baby buried in a big blanket. My mother was leaning her head down onto what I guess would be my fathers shoulders, while left arm is wrapped around her shoulder. His head must be leaning onto my mothers as well because you can just barely see dark red strands of hair falling into the non-ripped half picture side. Besides, my ripped family photo is just the normal standardized work utensils needed.

Getting closer to my desk, I make sure to take off my sack. Opening it I pull out my poetry book and place it on the desk, and then set my sack under my desk. That way it's off to the side and not in anyone's way.

Stepping away from the spaced desk area, I make my way towards the break room. Though it was a short walk it felt like I passed by millions of shelves, most were empty, but some had a few boxes full of files. Upon entering the room, the first thing that I noticed was Jon. He was over at the counter pouring some warm water into his mug.

“Oh, Jon what are you doing here so early,” Once I spoke those words I started to feel a slight headache. It was barely noticeable, but I’m not used to them so it was very easy to spot. Ignoring that for a moment. Turning my attention away from the small forming headache, I notice that Jon has turned back to look behind him at me. It barely took a second for him to realize that I was paying attention now because he turned around extremely fast. Though from the quick glance I caught at his face, it looked like a deep blush was spread across his cheeks. Looking past Jon I could see that some of the liquid from the tea kettle had spilled out onto the counter.

After a minute of us both just standing there, with I’m guessing matching surprised expressions, we both tried to calm down. I waited for another minute before talking again.

“Umm- Jon, did you stay here all night?” I spoke in a gentle-ish tone. Even with how low my voice's volume is. Jon still seemed to wince at it.

“What-,” Jon croaked out. “Wha-no. No I didn’t, I went home,”

“Mhh, sure, and you so happen to be wearing the same clothing from yesterday,” I raise my eyebrow near the end of my sentence, my eyes darting down to his clothing and then back up to his face again.

A small grumbling noise came from Jon, It sounded like he was saying “I don’t know what your talking about,”

I let out a light sigh and started forward, towards the smaller man.

As I walked the small headache seemed to be multiplying. It was slightly worrying, but right now, I needed Jon to understand that he needs to start taking better care of himself.

"Jon, please sit down and rest, let me clean up the mess," I spoke slowly as a way to help what I'm guessing is a massive headache, from the combination of not getting enough rest in the past 24 hours (maybe more), as well as forcing yourself to be constantly working in those hours.

"No Martin, I'm fine’. I'm able to take care of myself," The tired, stubborn tone his voice made could likely be heard all throughout london. When I finally got beside the man, I turned to look over at him, and with the little pathetic scene displayed in front of me that I couldn't help the small chuckle that emerged. As well as the little blush that creped up onto my cheeks.

The scene in front of me was that of Jon just staring tiredly at his mug, not fully realising that he spilled some of the liquid onto the counter.

“Alright Jon, let's just get you to your office,” I moved my hand to grab his arm. Jon seemed to flinch slightly, he went stiff, but once he saw that it was me in the corner of his eyes, his arm seemed to relax greatly and even seemed to lean slightly into the touch. Another chuckle left my throat. Turning around, I start leading (more of dragging) both us to the Archivist’s office.

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Upon entering the office, Jon tried to take the lead and go sit behind his desk chair. My hand still had yet to let go of his arm, so before he even took his fifth step into the room, I stopped him by taking the lead again and going over to the couch. This time Jon tried to resist by trying to pull his arm away, and out of my grip.

“Jon, come on, you're going to get some sleep,” I slightly plead at the tired man.

It took a minute for the words to register, but once it did he said, “No! Don’ want seep,” his words were more slurred this time.

I let out a sigh and walked Jon over to the couch. Even with how much struggle he is putting up, it wasn’t really good because the sleeplessness made his movement kinda sluggish. Once I set him down. I took notice that there were scars forming over certain parts of Jon's visibly shown skin.

Small dots littered his face. They were lighter than Jon’s natural brown color. I could only spot two other scares. One was on his hand, there was a large burn mark, but it seemed to look like it happened a while ago, but it confused me because I remember just yesterday when there was no such mark. The last mark, it was much more concerning because it was a slash. It wasn’t located just anywhere, its placement was right over his throat. Even with how old it looked it was still concerning because of how big it was.

I let out a deep sigh. But then the headache I felt started burning more, and pain started to etch its way into both of my legs. When I tried to take a step. Pain in my leg flared up instantly.

I stumbled back a bit and hit the edge of the couch seat. I sink slightly down onto the couch next to Jon. As I sat down the pain in my legs seemed to flair up again and I winced, but once I was fully seated the pain went down a little. Though it still hurts some.

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The strong pain in my legs from that morning had gone down into a dullness. They still ached from time to time, while I was working. But that is something easier to ignore than before. Though something weird happened once Jon had woken up later. He had told me that I could go home earlier than all the others if I wanted. Now that's already weird in itself, but something about that I find a stranger is the tone that he had spoken in. It sounded annoyed, yes, but more than that. It felt kinda forced. An easier way for me to tell that it was forced is that his eyes had a cold demeanor towards everything when we were around him, but this time it was different, they held a more forced look of coldness. It was like he was trying to put up a wall to block everything but it just kept tumbling down whenever he made slight eye contact with me, or just when he looked at me in general.

It was all strange, but another thing that was weird was the scars that had appeared on his skin. When I asked about them from the others (When they both had gotten in), they shared a confused look. They both had asked me what I meant, I then explained it to them both.  Then suddenly, they both went to Jon's office. I embarrassingly let out a surprised yelp, at the speed of how fast both of them had gotten up.

Tim had stopped a little bit once he realized the noise, he had let a chuckle out at it but then both Sasha and him continued their way to Jon's office. Once they were likely there, I let out a slight chuckle, but then got back to doing some work.

Later, I went to Jon’s office. I had asked him about the scares, but he didn't really pay attention to me, but then he seemed to have noticed or realized something, because as I said early with the weird letting me home, that happened right then.

After that I decided to get down a few more papers, then I noticed the time, and decided to make my way home.

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When I got inside my apartment, a weird feeling washed over me. It was a slight dizziness. I would have ignored it, if it wasn’t for me getting all these different feelings and pains all throughout the day, I just couldn’t ignore it. So going into my bathroom, I get into the medicine cabinet and take out a bottle of Ibuprofen. Once I get the bottle open, I take all that I need and put the container back. Taking the medicine I put it down and drank some water, to help wash down the pills.

I put the stuff away into the cabinet. Closing the door, I noticed on the mirror side of the cabinet, parts of my hair had started to turn a light red color. The tips of my hair had already turned white. I was startled by this.

“Wha-” I started but then stopped cutting myself off. I brought a hand to my face, I removed my glasses and then start rubbing my eyes. While rubbing my eyes, I make a descent towards my room. I let out a sigh and placed my glasses on the nightstand.

Going over to my bed and laying down was nice, sleep seemed to take over quickly, after my body went lax with exhaustion.

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When entering the office room, It wasn't long before I spotted Sasha. She looked like she was just about to set down all her stuff on her desk. So she must have just arrived into the archives not too long ago.

“Hey Sasha?” I asked.

“Mhh,” she hums out, then turns to look over at me. “What’s up Martin?”

“I wanted you to do something for me.”