The 18th Floor

Chapter Fifteen

LUCIEN'S POV

Waking up this Monday felt like hell. I hardly slept anyway, knowing I wouldn't see her today didn't make me feel any better. But I made it into work.

Walking into an empty office I've only shared with her for close to three months never felt so lonely. It's crazy to think I was in this office alone for a year before she rolled in, and now, not having her greet me good morning only sets me off for a bad start in the morning.

The day goes on as normal, but slower, duller and more mundane than normal. Every time I lift my head from my desk, I expect to see her there, her silky, brown hair glistening in the sun in her little pulled back bun. The way her nose scrunches up every time she's confused when she doesn't know I'm watching. Her laughter is missed in the room today and for the first time in a while I find myself reaching for my headphones to avoid going insane from the sheer silence of the day. Even Simon hasn't stopped by to annoy me as frequently as he does.

She said she had an appointment, should I message her and ask her if it's gone all, ok? Or is that too much? We've started texting more frequently outside of work hours. Discussing projects, thank you messages for me dropping her off, sending random funny videos she's found on online.

Simon asked her for her Instagram one day whilst he was lounging about in our office, and she told us how she doesn't have any social platforms.

"Even Instagram?", Simon asked. "That's ridiculous, how are both the people who work in marketing off the grid online? I wouldn't have hired either of you", he said in a huff.

She had laughed at that, before turning to me and saying, "you too?"

"I know how it works, but I don't want it", I had told her. The only response I had got from was a nod in agreement.

Everything I find out about her isn't enough. I need more, I want to know more. I want to absorb her all in. Every time I ask her a question, I want to ask her another, but I find myself biting my tongue more and more.

By the time 5pm comes around, I feel like I've already spent the whole week at work and make my way home alone.

Later that evening, her name flashes on my phone.

Cyrene:

Hey, sorry to bother you at this time but is it ok if I have tomorrow off as well?

Is she ok? Did something go wrong today?

Lucien:

Hey, that's ok. Are you all good?

I can see her typing. The little bubbles stay at the bottom of the screen for a while, but it's not until five minutes pass that she replies:

Yh, I'm just not feeling well.

Lucien:

I hope you feel better soon x

Cyrene:

Thank you. See you Wednesday.

I send her text a thumbs up reaction, I can tell she doesn't want to carry on the conversation.

Worry starts to course through my veins. All I can think about is going to see her and check if she's ok, but I can't show up at her house at midnight. Fucking hell Lucien, get it together.

I'm sure if she needed to talk to someone, she would have someone to talk to. She hasn't mentioned much about her other friends, but I know she keeps busy. Cyrene always tells me she has weekend plans.

I message Simon:

Cyrene has tomorrow off as well, said she's not feeling well. Can you make sure to change any meetings for tomorrow

Simon:

Ok, no worries. Is she ok?

Lucien:

Not sure, just said she doesn't feel well

Simon:

Cool, see you tomorrow

I try to sleep, but the night is the same as others. I'd rather stay awake than wake up to my screams of terror. Instead of staring at my white walls, I start working out.

The gym has been my only release lately. Some days I find myself going three times a day. It's not that I want to gain on more, it's that I need to do something. I need to wear myself out to a point of an exhaustion where I can collapse and sleep deeply enough to not dream. There's no escape in my head most days. It's draining in a way I can't even describe.

Where ever I go, no matter how occupied and busy I might be during the day, at the end of it, every night when I get into my bed, I find myself staring at the same plain ceiling unable to switch off.

But then she's there. All consuming, at the centre of it all. And then she laughs, and suddenly for those short lived seconds, it feels brighter again. She makes me coffee with too much sugar that I drink anyway because I don't want her to be upset. I always sit in her drive for a few extra minutes after she gets in, hoping that she's forgotten something in the car just so I can spend a few more moments of the day with her again.

Lost in my thoughts, I'm suddenly drawn back when I see sprouts of natural light flow in from the window and find my body covered in sweat. There's no point in sleeping now.

I take a shower and get ready for work.