A/N: Hello, readers! Sorry this chapter is so late. To answer some silent and not so silent questions: Yes, this story is probably going to get a bit weirder before it gets...well, darker. While there might be some moments here and there, things really aren't going to get too fluffy, I'm afraid, but I don't think anyone will be disappointed. I do have a really interesting model for where I want to take things, so I hope you'll enjoy it as we finally start to dip our toes in as things build up. And for the second question, I'll be playing a lot with dialogue styles in this piece, so unless something really seems badly out of place, it's probably on purpose. ;)
I do wonder if descriptions in the story seem too much or too little at the moment, so please share your thoughts with me on that, or just on what you think so far. Any and all thoughts are very appreciated! A very special thanks to nisan uzumakie, 4ever-A-Nightmare, and violetrose for reviewing and the one new soul now following. Thanks so much again to everyone for reading and reviewing! :D
Craig's hand slipped from his hard-won executive bathroom door handle as he stared in defeat at the darkly varnished wood. He let out an exasperated sigh. Lydia had managed to lock him out for over half an hour, and even fetching the key hadn't seemed to help. At first, it was like it wasn't even the correct key. Every attempt to turn it in the door had failed. That was, until the door had flung open and Lydia had kicked him out again, much to his confusion. He huffed at the memory. When he tried the key again, it finally turned but she had only flipped the lock back every time.
It was clear she wasn't coming out.
Craig slumped his shoulders before collecting himself. If she wanted to be alone, he thought to himself, then that is what she will be. Putting his keys back into his pocket and grabbing his wallet, Craig casually made his way across the atrium and into the elevator, ignoring the glances cast his way. He pretended very hard not to care.
Arriving at his destination, he entered the canteen, purchased a cheap coffee, and stepped out onto a prettily upkept balcony lined with various plants and flowers. Finally feeling he was out of sight of prying eyes, Craig slumped against the wall of the building and gingerly took a sip of his coffee. His face scrunched up in displeasure as he forcibly downed the bad brew that was in his mouth.
"Chicks, huh?" came a raspy voice from behind a strategically placed rubber plant.
Startled, Craig instantly frowned and pushed himself away from the wall. A man of roughly average height rounded the potted vegetation and gracefully held out a hand. He wore a brown, rather ill-fitting suit, and a badly matched black bowler hat that was pulled much too far over his ears, almost entirely obscuring his eyes.
"Sincerest apologies for having startled you, my good man," he said in a lilting, cultured voice. Craig frowned slightly at the drastic contrast it made to what he could have sworn he'd just heard before, but quickly pushed the thought out of his mind as he sternly took the man's gloved hand in front of him.
"A bit rude to hide behind shrubbery, don't you think?" Craig queried, trying to smile.
"Oh!" the man replied, quickly retracting his hand and folding them both behind him as he rolled back on his heels casually. "I hope it didn't appear that way- oh no! I was just back there smoking profusely, you see? And didn't want to bother the rest of you respectable individuals with the wretched sight, no!" He laughed curtly, before suddenly cutting himself off. "But I glanced through the leaves- you see- there, and thought I knew that look," he finished, smiling knowingly at Craig.
Craig had little idea what to make of this character in front of him. English but not quite English? The bowler hat is what gave it away, he thought. But no- perhaps South African? He was never good at these things the way Lydia tended to be. Deciding it would be too rude to ask, he merely forced a smile and nodded. "Well! You spotted it well then. Yes, I've...just had a small fight with my fiancée as chance would have it. Just thought I'd come out here for a breather and a..." he glanced down at his cup of brown sludge and tried to maintain his jovial expression. "...cup of coffee."
The man in the brown suit nodded emphatically. "Ah! Young love, yes, yes! But some young ladies can be quite troublesome, hmm? What is it, then? Spend all your money, did she? Call her mother to help plan the wedding?" He leaned in close. "Catch her sleeping with your best friend, hmm?" he laughed. Craig's face took on an exasperated expression.
"No, nothing like that!" he snapped, but quickly laughed to badly cover it up. "Just pre-wedding jitters, I imagine. Nothing serious." Craig cleared his throat and conveniently set down his styrofoam coffee cup in order to preoccupy himself with straightening the lapels of his suit. The other man gave a low, knowing laugh. "And I don't appreciate," Craig continued, "anyone speaking of her in that sort of manner. Especially a complete stranger."
The brown suited man laughed and spread his arms wide, walking up to Craig and suddenly hooking an arm around his neck, hugging him close to his side. "Ohh, come now, come now! You're going to be married, aren't you? Isn't bickering and suspecting the wife de rigueur," he quipped in perfect French, "of a happily married life together? You should start getting used to it, ho ho!" he laughed, squeezing Craig around the neck three or four times with the crook of his arm for emphasis.
"I-I really don't think so," Craig struggled to gasp as the man started to lead him around the balcony.
"Sure it is!" the man continued. "It might seem pleasant at first, but then the kids come along, you see? And the expenses start mounting up, and really after popping out two or three of the screaming whelps, well it's just not the same, I tell you! Down there, I mean," he motioned vulgarly. "Just not the same! And then later you find out about some sordid past, and all sorts of 'dead people in the closet' I think is how they call it nowadays..."
"Now just hold on a minute, I-"
"Nonsense!" the man exclaimed jovially, cutting off his prey with an unnecessarily tight squeeze of his arm. "I've seen it all before," he said in a sing-song voice. "Ohhh, the misery! The comedic misery of it all! But at least the house should be clean, am I right?" he finished, poking Craig in the chest with his free hand.
Craig finally managed to yank himself free of the man's embrace and took several very generous steps back in order to pat himself down after being so heartlessly crumpled.
"Who are you, anyway? I've never seen you up here before!" Craig stated indignantly, patting out his suit pants and inspecting his jacket for any serious creases. The man in the brown suit seemed to frown- as much as Craig could tell from the pulled-down bowler.
"How utterly rude of me not to introduce myself!" he cried, and dug deep into his pocket to pull out a yellow business card. "I'm the Exterminator. A pleasure to make your acquaintance," he said with a slight bow.
Craig took the card and examined it narrowly. Scrawled on the front in big, 3-D-esque letters simply read 'The Exterminator' and a phone number. Upon flipping to the back, Craig had to pull the card close to even make out a handful of the things the stranger claimed to expertly eradicate. The list was tiny and massive. Flipping the card back over again, Craig nodded and looked up. "I see," he said simply.
"Yes, seems the 12th floor has something of an infestation and I was called in," he explained helpfully, grinning.
"My god! The 12th floor?" Craig said in disbelief. "That's one floor below ours! Is there any risk of something spreading, you think?" The man chuckled.
"Ohh, who can tell. This has been a strange season for pests, you see. But I think I should be able to take care of it...quite well," he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up a bit. Craig, lost in thought, nodded as he looked at the card again and slipped it into his wallet.
"I should hope so," Craig added, looking up with a plastered on smile. "And with that, I really should be getting back to it. Best of luck to you!" he called, turning away as quickly as he could without seeming too eager.
"Yes, and to you as well!" the man called, waving casually as Craig disappeared through the doors.
Alone, the man in the brown suit sighed audibly, unbuttoned his jacket, and swiped up the intentionally forgotten cup of coffee. He snickered at the glass doors as he gingerly took a sip before spewing the contents all over the balcony. He glared evilly at the offending styrofoam before turning around and hurling it violently over the railing to fall into the traffic below. A series of horn honks could be heard wafting up from the street before an enormous crash as the man slid through the balcony doors and departed.
–
The office outside was still without Craig in it.
Lydia stood in front of the mirror, hands on either side of the sink counter, and sighed.
"This is ridiculous," she mumbled aloud.
She stared into and past her own reflection and thought hard. She couldn't stay in there forever. What excuse could she possibly give Craig? An assortment of cliché things slipped through her mind, quickly replaced by more elaborate explanations. None of it seemed convincing.
'What a stupid, ridiculous day,' she thought. 'Just...'
Suddenly tightening her mouth, Lydia dropped her head, grabbed the knob on the faucet, and let the cold water run before splashing it all over her face. She aggressively pulled the pins out of her disheveled hair and, without even thinking about it, swung open the bathroom door and marched up to a nearby armchair that conveniently held her purse and other belongings from that morning. Pulling out a hair tie, she piled her hair up into a messy loop and slung her jacket over the arm of the chair.
She decided she was done and going home. She was starving anyway. Maybe she'd stop by somewhere to get something to eat first. Either way it didn't matter. She was going to leave, and whatever she did after that was her own business. It didn't matter at all.
She didn't bother to replace her jacket and just stuffed it into a bag full of now useless and meaningless papers. Lydia smirked. Hours ago those papers had been the most important thing in her life and now? She found it very ironic. She loaded herself up and walked confidently out of the office and into the atrium towards the elevators, going out of her way to smile at every person who dared to watch her cross the floor. Eyes quickly darted the opposite direction the second she matched their gaze, and as the elevator doors opened, they revealed Craig standing in the car alone. Lydia blinked in surprise and hesitated. However, ruffling back up her ire from before, she stepped into the elevator and turned to face the doors as they closed. Craig just stared at her.
"Lydia..." he began after the doors closed. Lydia closed her eyes and shook her head.
"No, Craig."
"Look, I know something must've happened this morning and-"
"I really have no explanation for you," she blurted out. There was silence but relief on her face at finally having said it. She glanced at him. "Really, no explanation. I just don't."
Craig pursed his lips and nodded in silence. "I know..." he began quietly, "that something must've happened this morning to have shaken you up so badly. But please..." he said in earnest, "tell me in your own time, alright? I...won't force you." Craig looked down quietly and shuffled his feet.
The elevator stopped, the doors opened, and they both stepped out, walking in silence through the busy glass-encased lobby. Lydia paused and put down her things. Craig nearly passed her but spun around and met her gaze. Lydia smiled.
"Thank you, Craig," she said. He blinked. "Of course," he replied.
Lydia let out a nervous laugh and timidly put her arms around his neck, drawing him into a hug. After a moment, he put his arms around her, too. "Are you going home then?" he asked. Lydia nodded against his shoulder.
"Yes," she said. "I think that's best."
"Won't you let me take you to lunch?" he asked hopefully, but Lydia laughed.
"No, I don't think so," she responded, shaking her head. Craig frowned into her hair as it threatened to hit him in the face.
"Well...alright then," he conceded. "But I'll be around later to check up on you, alright? Maybe we can go out later."
"Aha, maybe..." she said. As she was about to pull away from him, she frowned, sniffing his jacket.
"Craig..."
"Hmm?"
"Your jacket...I didn't smoke that many. You reek of that and...tabasco shooters? Were you drinking?" she asked incredulously. She suppressed the urge to laugh.
"No, no!" he protested, pulling away from her. "No, there was this man in the canteen earlier doing extermination work on the 12th floor. He got a little...too friendly. I really don't know how legitimate he was, but his service credentials did seem impressive..." Craig cleared his throat awkwardly as Lydia gave him an amused look and nodded.
She picked up her things. There was silence again as they both stood there looking at each other.
"Well," she said curtly, looking around herself. "See you later then."
"Of course," he replied with a smile, and waved as she stepped through the automatic glass doors and into the street.
Craig sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. He shook his head, looked up at the high, airy ceiling above him, and slowly made his way back to the elevators. Lydia stood on the sidewalk trying not to look behind her and attempted to flag down a taxi whose driver's face she could fully see. Satisfied with her choice, she piled into the back seat and headed home. Eating could wait.
She got comfortable against the seat and pulled one of the bags onto her lap. Reaching inside, she felt around for a small velvet jewelry box, but came up empty handed. Panic briefly shot through her. Where did the ring go? She opened the bag wide, nearly sticking her head entirely inside of it as she searched for the box, her mind quickly flashing through the scenes from that morning. The last place she saw it had been on Marla's desk. Marla's desk. She sighed a sigh of relief and slouched against the car door in momentary mental exhaustion. Marla had it, or Craig had it. One of them did, and that's all that mattered. That ring really was too expensive. She patted her chest trying to dissipate the sudden onslaught of stress when the car arrived at her front door.
–
Craig returned to his office and sat calmly at his desk. Things had gone better than he had anticipated , if he was honest with himself, and that had made him smile a bit. Still, for some reason that late morning's forebodings of the troubles of marriage courtesy of the strange exterminator in the ill-fitting suit began bouncing around inside his head. Trouble indeed. He gingerly sniffed the sleeve of his jacket. He wasn't even married yet, and day one of his engagement had seemed to be nothing but trouble. Still, something had happened to his Lydia, hadn't it? He'd never seen that side of her before that he'd seen today. Smoking? That wouldn't do at all. He frowned at the thought. And the way she had yelled at him!
Something had happened, though. Something unpleasant. And while she hadn't told him yet, he was sure he could get her to tonight. Perhaps the milk had gone bad? Personally he preferred cream in his coffee. Or maybe she'd broken something at home trying to get out the door.
As he continued to try and come up with things that could've distressed his Lydia to such a horrible state, he spotted a small box on the edge of his desk. The engagement ring. Why had she left it? Craig recalled how full Lydia's arms had been when she left. He reached out and plucked the box from the desk and set it down in front of him. Carefully holding the bottom of it with one hand, he used to the other to firmly grasp the top and went to open it. The box did not open. Pulling a little harder, he tugged at the clamshell top but it didn't budge an inch. He picked it up, held it sideways, and pulled as hard as he could. It was almost certainly jammed shut. Gripping it in his hand, Craig sighed, giving up for now, and slipped it into his pocket to return to Lydia later.
–
Lydia had stripped off all evidence of her office job in favor of more comfortable clothing and sat on her couch, gazing out the window, and nursing a cup of peppermint tea. Just a quick sandwiched had sufficed, as her disrupted sleep the night before seemed to be catching up with her now. Her bed was calling.
She shuffled to her room and fell over dramatically onto her bedspread. Rolling underneath the covers, she gazed up at the constellations stuck neatly to her ceiling. She began slowly recounting each constellation one at a time as her eyelids got heavier and heavier. When her gaze fell onto Orion, she passed to the next one, but found herself back at Orion again. Orion. It hovered directly above her, at a strange angle, its shoulder right before her eyes.
'That...wasn't where I put that,' she thought through an increasingly thick and sleepy haze. 'That's...not where I put Orion. That's...'
Her eyes brushed over the spot where it used to be when her eyes were drawn back to Orion's shoulder. She squinted, trying to focus, as the star placed as its shoulder seemed to glow. Dim at first in the sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains, it then took on a darker, redder shade, and began to pulse. It shifted gradually to a deep, blood red with its pulses slowly growing longer and longer. Lydia gasped, but it was impossible to keep her eyes open. Sleep snatched her away, and a steady light, like a crimson halo, clung to the ceiling over her head.