The morning light streaming through the kitchen window was almost blinding, a glare that made Marley especially grateful they'd never replaced the gaudy maroon curtains. He tugged them partway closed, just enough to block the searing brightness from assaulting his eyes. He made a mental note—again—that they should replace the kettle. Though it hummed on the stove, sending a steady stream of steam from the spout, it wasn't getting any hotter.
In fact, Marley realized he could press his entire palm against the metal without burning himself.
He–
Maybe he shouldn't do that.
He moved about the kitchen quietly, preparing his morning tea. Not chamomile this time—it had started making him too sleepy—but something citrusy and sharp, with a lemony bite. He didn't know the name. The tea packets weren't labeled, and he'd long since thrown out the box.
The taste was energetic, a sour tang that jolted him out of the morning fog. As he took a sip, Marley adjusted his grip on the mug and wandered down the hall toward his office. The sunlight, still far too bright for the early hour, streamed through the large windows, sending sunspots dancing across the room.
Marley set his mug down on the table and immediately reached for his brick, still plugged into the wall, as usual. Emrys would probably chastise him later for leaving it in the office instead of carrying it around the house, but Marley disagreed; the office was where he spent most of his time, so it made sense to keep it there.
He should have been reviewing his work for the day or planning out his tasks, but a restless energy lingered beneath the usual ache in his joints. Last night's conversation with Emrys had left him buzzing, and he needed to spill it to someone—anyone—before it consumed him.
Who better than his best friend and go-to gossip partner, Khairi? No one, really. Well, maybe Emma.
Still, it was Khairi he messaged, completely skipping their usual morning pleasantries. They didn't need them, but Marley had always been a fan of the small rituals, and Khairi had humored him, at least over text.
'Emrys and I talked last night' he typed, hitting send before he could second-guess it. After a pause, he added the, 'Good morning' anyways.
As expected, Khairi's response came so quickly that Marley barely had time to adjust his grip on the brick before her message appeared on the screen. 'Oh?' followed by two eye emojis. Marley let out a snicker.
He hovered his fingers over the digital keyboard, unsure how to respond. 'Yup. Talked things through. Looks like I was worried for nothing.'
He could almost feel Khairi's eyeroll from across the screen. 'You're always worried about nothing' followed by a quick 'no offense' and then, 'So what's next? You and Emrys had a heart-to-heart and rode off into the sunset?'
Marley huffed out a laugh, resting his elbows on the desk. No, they didn't "ride off into the sunset." That was... a bit much, in any universe, Marley imagined.
He texted back a quick 'how dare you' and set his phone down, hoping to get some work done.
His to-do list was—well, the same as it always was on a workday: potions and patient records. No new updates from Cerys or her parents this time, but that was to be expected. He pulled a sheet of parchment to the left of the list and set his pen to the page, scribbling the date—just like he always did—at the corner. He ignored the shake and tremble that followed his handwriting, something that had been getting worse day by day, slowly but steadily. Frankly, as long as it was legible, that was all that mattered.
YOU ARE READING
Hey, Blue
Roman d'amourPreviously Titled -- The Head In My Hands. Frankly, Marley was tired of being sick. It had become part of his everyday life, sure, but gods- did it ruin everything. He never expected to be spending his late twenties working from home in quiet isolat...
