Chapter Text
You spot him one day in the archives, you had been working with the man officially for about three years, since you were hired to replace an archival assistant who had passed. Though you had technically been working at this fine institute since your work study in uni where you got your nice shiny degree in museum and gallery studies from Kingston University (not too shabby, you must say.) but now you were able to harass your lovely friend almost daily. On the days when the field work, set by the head archivist (and sometimes lovely) Ms. Gertrude Robinson, would tragically be skipped. Today was one of those days, so as soon as you spotted him tidying up a few tape recorders and tapes you took your chance and leaped out from the shelves of files, and gave him a great big hug from behind, burying your face in his golden hair.
He shrieked with a sharp yelp, dropping what he was holding into the pile of tapes. He clutched his hand at his sweater near his chest, breathing heavily “Bloody hell!” he gasped, trying to catch his breath a bit before turning to take a peek of you.
“Oh…” he laughed his wonderful laugh “It’s just you…” he smiled, and you smiled back. “You frightened me! Silly Thing..” you smiled a bit more at the nickname, when you’d asked why he chose that nickname in particular one late night shift a few months ago, he just laughed that beautiful laugh and tried to put it into words, something along the lines of: “Well.. you’re silly, and your a thing… Oh! well maybe that’s not the best way to put it.” You had laughed at him plenty too that night.
You smiled wildly with teeth, against his hair and sweater covered shoulder “Oh did i? my apologi—“ his hair got stuck in your mouth “—erghhh bleh bleh wait wait-“ you unwrapped your arms from around his waist, and pushed his hair from one shoulder over the other as he laughed at you again.
“Oh.. what am I gonna do with you..” he sighs fondly.
“Well if you want to get rid of me you're going to have to kill me, Michael. You know that.” You wrap your arms back around him, now with a hair free shoulder to rest your head against.
“Mhm? Am I now? I don’t think I could handle that on my conscience,” he moves back to packing away tapes into a box “Don’t..don’t think I’d want to do that, either.”
“Hmmmm?” you hum against him, breathing in the nice smell of his shampoo still hanging on his shoulder, “And why’s that? hmm? Are you a bit sentimental over me?”
He shifts slightly in his spot, hesitating a bit. “Something like- something like that” he chuckles nervously.
“Ooh, Mr. Michael Shelley cares about people! He has soft little insides and a big bleeding heart” you spread your hands to his heart and stomach, tip tapping your fingers around on his sweater.
He laughs “I thought this was a well known fact.” He turns in your grasp, leaning against the table he was in front of to face you. Although, he’s about a whole head taller than you so he has to look down to actually look at you; and he does, tilting his head oh so slightly into your hair, your own face resting against his chest.
“Humans are mushy, especially on the inside, you should know at least that much. Have you never taken an anatomy class?” His voice is breathy with laughter and you melt into him a bit more, giggling at a joke you could make, but you won’t. Then you go silent, just breathing in the moment for a second.
He goes quiet as well, running his knuckles up and down your spine over your shirt. “Is there.. Is there something upsetting you? Anything you need to talk about?” his eyes flick over your face.
“Hmm? No, why?” you pull back to look up at him, “ Do I give off an air of profound sadness? Do I seem on the brink of the edge?” you smile teasingly.
“No… Just, if there’s anything I can do for you I’d want to do it, I really do.”
A deep ping resounds in your heart, and you move your hand from his back to his face. Tilting your head with a solemn smile. "That's very kind of you, Michael, I want you to know that offer extends to you as well..” you looked deep into his eyes, trying to connect with him and also memorising his face while it’s in your hands: piercing eyes, light freckles, long blonde hair.
He leans in,
And you do as well,
And then..
“MICHAEL?!” Gertrude shouts for him from her office across the archives.
He pulls your hands from his face “Erm.. one- One second” he covers your ears as he shouts back “ERM? YES GERTRU–” he shakes his head “MISS ROBINSON? WHAT DO YOU NEED?”
“GET IN HERE! I'M NOT GOING TO BE SHOUTING ACROSS THE ARCHIVES FOR THE WHOLE INSTITUTE TO HEAR!” you chuckled a bit.
“UM RIGHT OF COURSE! MY APOLOGIES!” his leg starts bouncing in place nervously.
“JUST GET IN HERE!” she yells again.
He looks around at her door, then back to you, then the door, then you again. “I’ll– well I’ll just– I.. Well I’ll just be right back.” he nods. kissing you on the forehead before running off to Gertrude's office.
You turn to watch him scurry away, and then turn to the tapes he was packing away, deciding to take some off his shoulders and pack some away yourself. As you do, your eyes fall upon a recorder on the corner of the table spinning away, you chuckle. “Statement concluded, I suppose.” and you turn it off with a click.