Alfendi
The Mystery Room was lifeless without her. It was a cell that was closing around him with out her to let in the light. It was hard to imagine how he had gotten by all those years before her, Lucy Baker. Alfendi sat at his desk, on the brink of personalities. It had only been one day, one night that his assistant had been gone, just like every other employee at the Scotland Yard. Yet, the inspector couldn't stop thinking about her, every single minute detail of Lucy's being. The way her hair framed her soft face, the way she wore her auburn hat ever so carefully. The way her scarlet eyes lit up when she found the incriminating piece of evidence at a crime scene.
Every day, Alfendi was left to his own devices after hours at the Mystery Room, left to be at war with himself. It wasn't to long after the Forbodium case, and it was still hard to swallow that his violent side was the true side of him, and yet he couldn't say that there hadn't been warning signs. The way that Hilda had looked at him when his 'Placid' side had woken up from that god-forsaken coma. How Justin, the bastard, had hovered around him, making sure that the real Alfendi Layton never got to self-conscious. But still, the way Lucy looked at him when he had just given up, failing himself and her, would never be able to leave his mind.
I am the real Al. I'm Alfendi Layton
The lights had left Lucy's eyes, but they were back in an instant. Fire were ablaze behind red irises, and not much longer, Lucy Baker had solved a case that no one was able to for four years. Alfendi had tried so hard to masquerade his feelings that had grown steadily since Lucy had burst into the Mystery Room, shattering his life to controlled chaos. It was a terrible feeling, not being able to face himself whenever his darker persona, or Potty Prof, as Lucy so gently called it, came out, threatening the only person who saw Alfendi as a person, not some freak who caused havoc where ever he went.
It was hard to deny that Alfendi didn't notice the way people acted around him. The forced kindness, the nervous energy that bounced around the room when he entered. Even the people who knew his calmer side to be the original acted slightly strange, especially after Forbodium, when the secrets flew around the Yard like airwaves, with every worker tuning in to the broadcast. Florence was more cautious, Dustin became quicker at cleaning the office, and Sniffer was always to kind when their paths crossed. But not Lucy.
"Lucy," Alfendi whispered to himself. Just the way her name sounded as it rolled off his tongue sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn't fathom what would have happened if Lucy hadn't solved the case. Alfendi would be an unstable murderer, a monster that society feared. Lucy was a smart girl, and she would have been able to find a job in another department easily. It wasn't everyday that a girl like her came onto the force, and anyone who wasn't a complete idiot could see that. But the thought of her leaving was just too much to bear. The pain was so immense that Alfendi struggled to take a breath.
She was the reason that he was like this. Lucy had stolen his heart slowly, like a criminal in the dark, creeping up on you until it was too late. Alfendi felt out-of-place without her by his side. Lucy was the reason he could barely read a simple sentence without having to reread it multiple times.
Sure, Alfendi felt more at peace when Lucy was there, but there was little things that just hurt him more than her not being there. It was the days that were filled with paperwork, and Lucy, as determined as ever, would spend hours beside him filling it out, as he would steal a glance into her crimson eyes. As they shone bright with the fervor that was always there, Alfendi couldn't stand that as he stared into Lucy's eyes, that she wasn't looking back. It was less of a surprise now, but her not knowing how desperately he loved her hurt more than the fact that the twisted side of him was the real Alfendi Layton.
Nothing had as much of an effect on him as Lucy's voice did. The thick cockney accent was constantly invading his mind, even if the detective constable wasn't there. Echoes of her voice rang around his mind, every word filling the void in the inspector's heart. 'Prof,' Lucy's voice whispered. 'Prof, close your eyes.' Lucy was always on Alfendi to take care of himself. How could he when all he could think about was her? 'Prof, I will see ya in your dreams,' her voice serenaded. This was how he fell asleep at night in the Mystery Room, with Lucy calling to Alfendi in his dreams, to a world where she was his.
Every morning, when he awoke, a sharp stab of pain plagued his body, for Alfendi knew that Lucy really wasn't in his arms, but at her home, blissfully unaware of his affection. Sitting at his desk in the Mystery Room, Alfendi had his head in his hands, murmuring softly to himself.
"Lucy," he whispered. "Why can't you see." Alfendi was talking aloud, to no one in particular. "What your doing," his voice softened as a stray tear slid down his cheek. "to me?"