Work Text:
“He’s back again.” Parker informed Arthur absently, clicking keys on his laptop to convey the illusion of productivity.
No more words had to be uttered for Arthur to know just who he was talking about, and for his day to be ruined.
Like clockwork, just a few minutes before Arthur arrives, without fail, not a single day missed, a random man neither Arthur nor Parker knows positions himself outside of their office the entire day and doesn’t leave until Arthur does.
Don’t get him wrong, Arthur loves his job, but ever since this stranger appeared, he’s been dreading coming into work.
He doesn’t do anything that would warrant such a primal feeling of fear, not exactly. He just sits with his legs crossed at the ankles, reading the exact same book he has been for an entire month now. ‘The rats in the walls’ by HP Lovecraft. Arthur had searched it up when it was apparent that he was making zero progress on it.
Only forty two pages.
A forty two page book should not take half a month and more to read.
It was obvious he was only trying to appear intelligent, which made even more sense when he kept nodding after each page. An egregious amount of nodding.
He’d pull out The King in Yellow whenever he’d get bored, which always twisted a knot in Arthur’s stomach whenever he laid eyes on it.
It’s not that he personally had any issues with the book, but his partner, John did. He had been born and raised in a mad cult formed around the very King that the book was about, and had since grown an animosity towards all things king in yellow related.
Arthur too could understand his hostility towards cults, although he wasn’t about to get into why.
The man would make a point to shake his head, or tsk in disagreement every so often. Even if Arthur hadn’t exactly read the book himself, he was more than aware that the king himself wasn’t some cruel, ruthless beast. So whatever he seemed so disappointed in was lost to Arthur.
Even John didn’t fully ‘hate’ the King. He hated the cult that would forever warp his perception on things.
Arthur peeked over at the man over his laptop. Currently, he was mumbling to two labubus that Arthur had the misfortune of learning the names of.
One time, when Arthur was forced to walk past him, he had overheard his absurd mumblings.
Apparently the tan one was ‘Arthur Lester’ and the yellow one was ‘John Doe.’ It still made his skin crawl.
How he had even known the name of his partner made him itch all over. Every night while they settled in for bed, John would explain his day in absurd detail. If he knew this stranger, he would’ve obviously told Arthur.
Even if he had a suspicion, there wasn't enough evidence to get a restraining order against him, and both Arthur and Parker didn’t have the time to investigate him.
Squinting, Arthur eyed the tan labubu the man was affectionately stroking. It looked worse for wear, and had a few chunks of the fur pulled out, revealing the baldness of the plastic. The John one was even worse, hanging from his tote bag neglected. It seemed burned, the fur tinged an ashy black.
Arthur imagined what he was whispering.
“Can you believe women have to suffer through periods, little Artie.”
Pushing aside the nickname for Arthur’s own safety, that was about what he had said the day Arthur had noticed the labubus for the first time.
His vice-like grip around the John one had almost been enough to pop out its eyes as he lamented about how unfair periods were. Arthur had pretty much ran past him that day.
The implications were certainly there, but Arthur wasn’t too pleased that the labubu version of him and his partner were this man’s version of an abuse goblin.
The man’s eyes snapped up, as if sensing Arthur’s gaze on him, and met his own. Arthur held his gaze, determined to scare him off. What resulted in a five minute stare down was interrupted when Parker waved his hand in front of Arthur’s face.
“You’re zoning out again.” Parker said casually, eyes not leaving his computer. Arthur nodded quietly, sighing as he looked back down at his own work.
A minute passed before the stranger lowered his eyes, and went back to weirdly petting the Arthur labubu.
An hour of peace passed before Arthur made the grave mistake of looking up. The man was too occupied with a book of feminist literature to pay him any mind. He flipped a page, then wiped at his eyes with a shake of his head. Arthur’s jaw almost dropped at the display of such audacity.
Parker shifted, catching Arthur’s gaze. He leaned over, eyes locking onto the stranger. The two sat there silently for a minute before Parker burst out laughing, doubling over. The stranger perked up, happy to have finally gotten a reaction out of Arthur- oh, it’s just.. Parker. Instantly, the man deflated, shutting the book, and stuffing it into his sanrio tote bag.
Parker only laughed more, tears brimming his eyes as he clutched his chest.
“I don’t get how you can get any entertainment out of this.” Arthur grumbled, shifting in his chair as he blankly stared at his computer. Parker laughed, leaning over to Arthur.
“How can you not, just look at him.” Parker said, nudging Arthur.
Arthur bit his cheek, reluctantly looking up.
The stranger was now holding a self help book, an almost dead look in his eyes as he stared down at the cover page.
Parker pressed his lips together, suppressing a laugh.
“Remember when he brought that whole guitar..?” Parker asked, voice tight and wavering with amusement.
Yes, Arthur very much did remember that day.
On a particularly slow work day, Arthur had found himself watching the man more than usual. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, the man had pulled an entire guitar out of thin air.
He hadn’t played any songs, just merely plucking a few out of tune strings, humming to himself. Arthur caught a few notes to the song ‘You call it madness, but I call it love’ by Russ Columbo.
It was vastly different to the songs the stranger usually obnoxiously played. Clairo, Laufey, Mitski, and Beabadoobee were his usual hits.
And Arthur would know this. He always listened to music on full volume with one of the headphones out of his ear, hanging across his vintage sweater.
It was obvious to Arthur that he didn’t actually like the sweater with how much he scratched himself whenever he wore it.
So yes, Arthur definitely remembered that day.
“And that blood matcha!” Parker said through laughs.
Arthur made a face as he recounted that incident.
While he’s not fully sure the name ‘blood matcha’ is one hundred percent confirmed, he’s still wary.
He had needed to walk past the stranger again that day, and had caught a smell of what he had originally thought was strawberry matcha. He had experience with the smell of blood, and the metallic scent coming from the cup was scarily similar.
The man had even had the audacity to silently offer him a sip when Arthur had been caught staring too long. Arthur had denied it, of course, and the man had gone back to happily sipping away.
Arthur shook his head, lightly pushing Parker away.
“Get back to work.” Arthur said with a small, fond smile. The man started choking on his spit, but both Arthur and Parker ignored him.
—-
Parker had left far before the sun started to dip under the horizon, leaving Arthur alone with his work.. and the stranger who was still there.
Biting back a yawn, Arthur checked the time. John never liked him working too late, so Arthur stood, putting all his things away.
The next day at work, the stranger was absent.
Arthur had almost known peace for the first time in forever, that was until his eyes landed on something on his desk.
“…”
A gift box of dubai chocolate..
Parker died laughing that day.