Chapter Text
It’s a little past ten. The heel of her shoe slowly rocks on the carpet barrier, rolling her chair back. Helly curls her hands around the edge of the desk, and tugs herself back forwards, sliding back into place. The partition boards are half-down, and she flits her gaze around between each of them.
Irving’s moustache is fully covering his upper lip, curled in concentration. Must be a bad one, then.
She turns her head, glancing towards Dylan’s side. He’s got a small smirk, eyes almost twinkling in the fluorescent overheads. That’s gotta be a happy one.
Slowly, she inches back in her chair again.
She turns her head, and darts her eyes up to Mark. His hair is curling over the top of his ear. She traces the line of it, down to the edge of his side burn, where it then turns into a faint stubble that smatters along the line of his pale jaw.
She hunches her shoulders, tracing her eyes over the back of his head. There’s a small, errant hair, sticking out at the crown of his head. Her hand twitches. She drags her chair forward with her thumb and fingers pinched against the edge of the desk. The heel of her shoe see-saws, and she jerks backwards again, this time sending off an abrupt squeak.
Dylan’s head shoots up. “You’re gonna get mega scoliosis.”
“I don’t think you can just get scoliosis.” Mark says, tapping away at his keyboard. Dylan shoots him a look across the diagonal.
“She’ll be the first of her kind, then.” He mutters, and turns back to his screen.
Mark’s head turns her way, and he raises an eyebrow. She gives him a blank look, and scoots her chair inwards again.
It makes a much quieter noise, but still audible enough that she gives up, slouching backwards into her chair. She just sits like that for a bit, staring blankly at the monitor until the white numbers blur together, like soap bubbles draining in the sink.
There’s just nothing to do. Aside from her job, obviously, but fuck that.
Everyone’s actually refining for once. Tapping and clunking away, sorting things into little glowing buckets. She’s already tried closing the refining window. There’s some kind of lock on it, though, and Irving had noticed her desperately trying different key combinations to get past it.
He’d instead brought up the digital version of the handbook, and she’d reread the whole thing out of sheer bewilderment, actually paying attention this time. It’s fucking weird. And the clip art sucks. She hates Sevy’s smug little face.
She loosens her grip on the desk, and flits her hand down to her desk drawer. Yanks it open, and roots around for a second. Pushes past the crumpled paper plane she made yesterday, the empty box of raisins she’d snuck over from the kitchen, until her fingertips graze the pad of sticky notes.
On the first page, she just scribbles a few times. Looping, arching shapes, rambling thick lines, scratchy in the centre where she presses down onto it with her middle finger, ink staining the grooves in her skin. When there’s no more room, she tears it off and crumples it up, tosses it back into the drawer.
The second page lays blank for a few moments. She twiddles her pen, looking around the desk for inspiration.
She’s halfway through shading the base of the lamp when Irv splutters loud enough to catch her attention.
She glances up, eyes darting between him and Dylan, who’s pushing back in his chair, beginning to stand. “-cannot be defined by simplistic terms. Like, hello? A straw is an infinite number of holes, stacked on top of each other.”
Irv scoffs, splaying his palms flat against the desk. He stands, with a deep frown across his face. “That doesn’t make a lick of sense, whatsoever.”
“Uh, yeah it fuckin’ does-“
“How can a singular hole be infinite-“
They keep going, rounding the desks and trailing their argument into the kitchen. Her gaze turns back. “Mark?”
He’s leant far back in his chair, a pen tapping at his lower lip. He’s completely zoned out as far as she can tell, eyes fixated somewhere on his screen, blurry and unfocused. “Mark.” She calls again, leaning forward to push the partition even further down.
“Hm?”
His head moves in acknowledgment, but he makes no effort to move.
“Coffee?”
His head, then eyes, drag over to her. The movement is slow, drifting over her face blankly. She’s still waiting for some kind of response, but he just stares at her, long enough that she shuffles on her feet. The pen pokes at the skin of his lower lip, and she has to drag her eyes away.
Then, his pen drops down to the desk, and he taps it a few times, like he’s waking himself up. It gets tucked into his inner pocket, and then he clears his throat. Stands, and tucks his chair in neatly.
She’s still just standing there, her hand gripping the board. “What was that? Telekinesis?”
Mark turns on his feet, and she rounds the desk, walking by his side with a barely concealed smile. “You trying to refine shit with your mind powers?”
He puffs out a small laugh, and sticks his hands in his pocket. The movement bumps their arms together. “I know I can do it.” He jokes, then brings his hand up in a pinching motion. “I’m this close.”
Helly grins.
Dylan and Irv are already seated at the table, coffee untouched in front of them. Dylan makes an exaggerated stacking motion with his hands, and Irv’s mouth drops open in indignation.
She turns back to Mark. “Maybe you’ll win another head cube.”
He rolls his eyes, and picks up two mugs from the stand, along with a few sugar packets. “Just between you and me, I’m gunning for a waffle party.”
She drops her notepad onto the counter. Tugs the coffee stirrer from his grasp and swirls around the creamer and sugar into her coffee. They’re still going on about the straw thing, but she’s barely listening, instead zeroing in on Mark just beside her, spinning the notepad around with the tips of his fingers. He turns back to her, tapping the edge of it. “Nice.” He says, simply.
She raises an eyebrow, feeling slightly off-balance. He knocks his knuckles against the counter, and takes his coffee with him, heading over to the table. “What is this argument even about?”
Helly takes a second longer, debating between another sugar packet. She still hasn’t made up her mind on how she likes her coffee. Sometimes she finds it unbearably sweet, even with just one creamer. Other times, it’s way too bitter to tolerate, and she dumps in three more just to drink the sugary paste that coagulates at the bottom.
It’s only when she takes her seat between Irv and Mark that she realises she forgot her pen. “Shit.” She says. “Anyone-“
Mark fishes a pen out of his inner pocket mid-laugh, handing it to her.
Something buzzes in her chest- a feeling all lopsided, warm in a way she doesn’t really know what to do with. Helly takes a long second to blink, and then looks down at the pen in her hand.
“Sucks not having pockets, huh.” Dylan says, snapping her out of her daze. She shoots him a look, and then clicks it loudly, turning back to the debate now between the three of them. Mark somehow hasn’t picked a side yet, instead goading the other two on with a sly little smirk on his face.
Later, when they’re all back at their desks and buzzing with caffeine, Helly rolls Mark’s pen around in her hand. It’s just a regular black one. But importantly, it’s now her pen. And she’s sure as shit not giving it back.
She purses her lips. Tilts her head up just enough to glance between each of them, see if anyone’s looking.
They’re not.
She ducks her head back down, rolling it around in her grasp until her thumb hovers over the Lumon logo.
Then, with the edge of her nail, she slowly scratches off the L.
Eventually, she finishes the drawing. Sits back, peels it off the pad and glances around. It could go on the edge of her computer, but she doesn’t really care to look at it all the time. There’s the board, but-
Helly leans up in her chair, stretching her arm over and smacking the sticky note onto Mark’s side of the partition. His head instantly snaps up, turning towards her with a startled look on his face. His eyes dart between the drawing and her, and she cuts him off before he can speak. “Keep it.”
His chair squeaks as he sits up, leaning over to gently tug it off the board. “Thank you, Helly.” He looks down at it for a long moment, then back up at her, a soft smile on his face. “It’s really good.”
A smile stretches across her face, and she sits back, ducking her head down.