A girl, A boy, and a graveyard

One black coffee and one green tea

Lucy POV
1968 words

I had gone on many walks during the day at 35 Portland Row. To Arifs corner shop, to get more donut's. It was the type of shop that was tiny, and sold almost everything. Where if you stood in the centre and stretched your arms out, you could reach the fridge for a jug of milk with one hand and a canister of greek fire in the other. An old man ran the place, jolly with wisps of grey hair dotting the top of his head.
But even the scariest ones, like chasing a dangerous intruder, or coming home to the door being unlocked, could never amount to how cold my blood ran when Lockwood asked me that.

"U-um sure! To Arif's? Do we need anything? i think we're running low on milk anyway, I'll just put my coat on." My hands trembled, and Lockwood had put his hand on my shoulder to stop it, and ended up just making me shake more.

"No, not to Arif's. I don't precisely know where we will go, but i figured you're going to be leaving soon so."
And there it was, i was waiting for him to mention it. The day before, we were all celebrating our win on the Chelsea outbreak. Where Visitors and Spector's infested Chelsea and there was no sign of how it started or how it would stop, much like most of the Problem. After my conversation with the Fetch impersonating a dead version of Lockwood, i figured it could be telling the truth, i could lead to the downfall of Lockwood And Company. So i did the only thing i could think of, resign and move far away so there was never a possibility of the Fetch's words coming true. Obviously George, Lockwood and even Holly objected, but i didn't listen to them. It was my decision. And it hurt because i didn't want to leave the home i had created at Portland Row, and i knew they didn't want me to leave either, which is why it was so scary hearing those words from Lockwood.

But he was my leader, i shouldn't shake in his wake, i should follow him, trust him. So i took hold of myself and straightened my trembling back. "Sure! How about we go to that cafe we always walk passed? The one that smells so good, but we never have time to go inside?" I gave him my best Carlyle grin, and instead of the usual radiant grin i received, his sparkling eyes dimmed, his face saddened. His lips twisted into a forced smile, i could feel my heart break in two and my height shrink down to nothing.
"Sure thing, i'll be waiting."
I stood there like an idiot, staring up at him. His sharp jaw, dark brown eyes, ruffled hair. Why did i have to do this to myself? Torture myself. I gulped out some passing response and shuffled back to my room.

The usual things that would annoy me on a day in the residence of Lockwood and Company, would be the folded clothes on my desk, George snoring so loud i could feel the house shake below my feet, George coming out of his room in either the biggest shirt ever, to the point it wrapped round his knees, or in nothing but boxers. But as i trudged back to my room in the attic it felt weirdly comforting. The messiness of it all used to be what gave Portland Row it's charm, then Holly showed up with her manicured little hands wrapped around a duster, and cleaned everything up. The weirdest thing was, when i entered my room to find my clothes folded in her neatness, my floor vacuumed and every doorknob and desk surface polished, it didn't bring the usual twang of annoyance to my day. It strangely made me feel grateful. I felt horribly guilty for our argument at Aickmere's that stirred up the Poltergeist, that i slowly stopped caring about her fake plastered on smile, or the shine of her white teeth, or her perfect hips and ironed shirts. I slowly became grateful for her.

I got dressed in a blue jumper and dark red skirt with tights, and my usual combat boots, checked myself over in the mirror and went back downstairs. Holly stayed downstairs in the basement, answering clients calls and dusting the suit of armour by Lockwood's desk. George was probably out at the Archives, his head stuck in some boring book. Lockwood was there just where i had left him, it was as if he hadn't moved at all. The only difference, he tied his tie, navy blue with red stripes, and tucked in his shirt though the side of it stuck out a tiny bit. What was with him? i had never seen him this disheveled since at least three months ago, when the house was always untidy, and the heater broke so there wasn't any hot water for two weeks and we kept getting more and more useless cases of type ones, that could be dealt with simple wards and lavender. Before Holly came it was chaos.