The Hollows Of Hiraeth (✔️) | 'Hollows' Book I

Chapter Thirty-Five

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T h e H o l l o w s   O f
H I R A E    T    H
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Time was passing by as slowly as ever and the constant ticking of the clock had me ready to blow up like a ticking time bomb. The annoying thing? The clock didn't even display the right time. The most annoying thing? The floor is not comfortable to sit on, and the sofa is way to dusty to even consider relaxing on.

Jameson had shifted away from the fire and leaned up against the wall next to it, his body facing me but metres away from me. I, however, still needed the warmth to function.

The squeak of Jameson's shoes caught my attention and I watched as he walked over to the filing cabinets and started rifling through it. I turned back to the him and pulled my knees up to my chest.

"These have no dust on." Jameson's voice bounced around the walls until I shifted around to see him holding up two blankets. With no dust. I almost jumped to my feet, but the aches in my limbs prevented me from doing such a hyper action.

I got to my feet as quickly as I could and rushed over to the filing cabinets, where Jameson continued to fish around for stuff. I picked the pile of blankets up from the couch and smiled as a thought came to mind.

I began to decorate the sofa with blankets and tried to cover up every millimetre of dust. Jameson passed me another blanket and I placed it on a patch that was left then grinned proudly at my work.

I looked up to see Jameson looking between me and and the couch with an amused expression. "Aren't I amazing?" I challenged with a slight smirk and Jameson shook his head at my childish manner before turning back to the drawer.

"Oh, look." Jameson's voice called me away from my masterpiece and I looked over at him to see him holding up a first aid box. Remembering my injuries, I smiled gratefully at Jameson and he understood, closing the drawer he had been fishing through.

Before I had a chance to, Jameson plopped down onto the sofa and started to get comfortable. He spread out like a starfish, his arms and legs sprawled around him.

I frowned, "Hey! What about me?" I shouted at him, sounding rather outraged. Jameson managed to stifle a small laugh before moving to make space for me. I laid down and got comfortable, but then I sat back up.

"Wouldn't it be better if we weren't three metres away from the fire?" I pondered aloud and turned to face Jameson, an eyebrow raised in question. In response, Jameson yanked me up and dragged me around to the back of the sofa.

"Help me push it then." He offered and began to push the sofa forward, slightly.

I scoffed, "As if you need my help." I joked but helped him nonetheless, surprising myself when the sofa moved forward slightly faster when I joined in. When we finally had it close to the fire, we both made ourselves comfortable on the sofa again, with the hot flames as our guest.

The click of Jameson opening the first aid kit pulled me away from the lavish life near the flames and I sat back into the couch, awaiting the medical help. I was about to help myself to the antiseptic when Jameson started applying it to my injuries for me.

He started at the cuts and grazes at my legs and I found myself cringing away from the alcohol more than once.

"Okay, now for your face," Jameson announced as he pulled out a fresh cotton pad.