Joey and The Ink Machine. || A BATIM AU FANFICTION.

THE OLD SONG - PART 1

TWS FOR MANIPULATION, AND GUILT-TRIPPING???

Henry couldn't get the incident out of his mind. And that alone was saying something. Well, maybe not about Joey. Maybe about him. He wasn't sure.

He had arrived to work as promised today-and had been arriving at work as he always did for the past few days he had decided to come back here and not quit after all. And of course, work was the same slow mechanical process as he remembered it being when he nearly decided on quitting. It was the same process that even made him consider such an option. Such a mistake.

At least, it seemed a mistake to him now.

Linda had still been worried sick ever since the incident had passed. She hadn't even known of what happened, or why Henry was gone for so long. He figured not telling her was the best option. After all, he didn't want to give her the burden of worrying about him. Any sort of worry directed toward him would just be a waste of someone's time. He didn't want anyone to waste their time on him. Not as much as Joey kindly always bothered to spend time around him-even though he only consumed peopled time.

..the memory of the sharp blow Joey dealt to his face still repeated his mind. And as did the memory of Joey grasping his throat tightly with his hands. Henry could still feel himself shudder at the thought of it. He wasn't sure why. Anytime he did, he felt a strange sense of.. anxiety.

Did.. he deserve to be afraid? After provoking his friend the way he did? He didn't know, but-

"Henry!"

A familiar, masculine, cheerful voice sounded from nearby. Very close by even. So close he could tell whoever the source of the voice was must have been right beside him. Henry flinched, and the moment he was snapped out of his thoughts, he quickly processed his surroundings.

Ah.. yes. He was still at work, leaning over his small desk in the corner with at least thirty sheets of drawings laying atop the surface.

He quickly turned his head to face whoever it was, only to flinch once he saw the face who had been the source of the sound.

"..o-oh.. Joey."

Joey's ice blue eyes stared straight back at him as if piercing his very soul, the thin lips on his face curling into the same smile they often did. Though something about the way he did made Henry's heart anxiously pound. "Heh-sorry, old pal! Didn't mean to frighten ya there!"

"..no-no. It's fine. I just didn't notice you were there." Henry mumbled in response, slowly turning in his chair with a slight sigh. He could feel the exhaustion weighing on him despite the mingling fear in his heart. And he could practically feel the dark circles that were noticeably around his eyes, and had been getting more noticeable for a few weeks now.

Henry then managed to softly speak, inquiring, "Is.. did-did you need something?"

"Well.. yes. And I also came to give you something too!" Joey enthusiastically replied.

"..really? What is it?" Henry gently asked.

"Mm.. here, let me just pull it out for a second." Joey's hands began to search his pockets as he turned around-his hands shuffling for them and searching, until he finally let out a simple sound of happy relief. "Aha!"

He then swiftly turned around. And there-grasped in his hands appeared to be.. a box of art supplies. Filled to the brim with all sorts of colored pencils, papers, ink-pots. Henry's mouth hung open at the sight of the array of gifts inside of the box, and his eyes shimmered with delight. For a moment, his anxiety became completely replaced by gentle euphoria.

"Wo-Woah.. what.. where did this come from?" Henry muttered as Joey slowly handed it over to him. Henry then gripped his hands on the sides of the box, pulling it onto his lap.