A girl, A boy, and a graveyard

Problems

Lockwood POV
2414 Words

I knew it. I had a feeling something was off within the house, and it was this room. "This room is where William died." I felt triumphant, that was until a bookshelf came clattering down to the ground with a mighty crash. Holly screamed again and jumped up from her chair. 
"Right, George lay down the chains." I was trying to figure out what to do, there was no death-glow, no apparition. Not yet.

But that wasn't the thing that was distracting me. Lucy was, and had been for days now. I didn't understand it much, I didn't have a crush on her. She's my co-worker, our work was completely platonic. But tell me why, I felt this way? I suppose it started in the lounge. After meeting the Websters everything was fine. Sure Mr Webster was an interesting character, but I was more focused on the ghost. How it did sound like me, and George noticed it.

"Well." I sighed smoothing down my suit. "You can say what you need to now George." George laughed.
"Oh come on! I can't be the only who thinks it sounded a tad like Lockwood!"
"Lockwood would never throw a cat! Or chase it around." I felt relived at least Holly thought it wasn't a very accurate version of me.
George leaned forward and munched on a cookie, "No, but the rest of it is definitely something I can see young Lockwood do." He laughed, crumbs flying out his mouth definitely collecting to the hill of crumbs on my carpet.

I glanced at Lucy across from me she was staring off.
"Lucy? You've been rather quiet?" I felt a weird shift in the room after I said that, Lucy smiled slightly and looked at me.
"Just observing. Does anyone have any idea what type William is?"
"Sounded like a poltergeist to me." Holly frowned looking up from her notes.
"No I doubt it, I mean William sounds like a pretty devious ghost right? He would have ripped the whole house apart already if he was a Poltergeist." George shook his head.
"Could just be a weak one."

"Right well. I'm off to the archives, see if I can find anything on William Webster. And what do you think of their son Walter? A listener?" George rose from the sofa, brushing crumbs off his lap and taking Holly's notes.
"Sounds like it." Holly stood up as well, straightening her skirt, "Shall I start dinner? Will you be home for that in time George?"

George shrugged, his small shoulders rising and falling, and walked out the lounge.
"Perfect." Holly rolled her eyes and walked out as well. Usually I would take comfort in Lucy's presence, but this time, it was different. I glanced at her out the corner of my eye. Her hair was in her face, she was staring off out the window. I turned my head away at gazed at the books that lined the shelves, what was going on? I suddenly felt like I needed to do something, itch or practice rapier training, or help Holly with dinner.

I moved to the door, but so did Lucy. We stood there in the small doorway, stuck.
"Oh sorry, you go." I said, as she said: "You go." At the same time. Our hands brushed against each other, as we fidgeted. A sharp pain went to my temples, I remembered the feelings of being alone, sat in the library, I remembered standing outside a door, a door I had never seen before. And having Lucy open the door, her hair matted still wearing pyjamas. I remembered looking down at her hands, a ring on one of her fingers.

Then suddenly, it was gone, and all that was left was the spark of electricity it had conjured in the process, I winced, pulling my hand away.

"You okay?" Lucy asked, she inched closer, but I felt her shoe bumped into mine.
"Yeah just, little pain in my temples." I forced a smile and stepped away from her. "You go." 
"Thanks." She quickly walked passed me and out the door, I soon heard her footsteps recede up the stairs.

I stood there, staring at nothing, then I looked down at my hand quizzically, what was that? What did those memories mean? I closed my hand then walked out of the lounge to join Holly in the kitchen.