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"Lexington."
There were a multitude of reasons why she could possibly be halted in her footsteps, mid-stride to her quarters, and mid-eye twitch of irritation.
Maybe something broke down.
Perhaps an experiment broke loose.
What if..
"Lexington."
"Stop."
Lexington could feel a silent sigh draw out of her as she begrudgingly obeyed the command of her 'superior'. Walden. She didn't exactly want to face him, not when she was on the verge of strangling someone if she didn't get at least a quick hour of rest in. But, the tone of voice he used made it clear she had little to no choices here..
"What?.."
Her voice called out in a questioning reply, low, exhausted, sharper than usual with buried malicious intent. And she slowly turned on her heel.. Facing him.
They stood in a quiet hall of the vast factory, the walls depressing gray and probably looking down at the duo with baited anticipation.
Tension floated in the air for what felt like a whole minute, but was really mere seconds.
"Come with me, now, no discussion."
Then he turned on his heel and stormed away. Leaving Lexington with a bleary-eyed stare that felt deadly and a bit loopy. She wished to say 'no'. To just throw the bird at him and walk the opposite way. But.. She would rather not chance getting sent to the experiment chamber again. So, she followed, 6 feet behind.
It took less than five minutes for Walden to lead them to where he intended, his office. And he opened the door with a lazy push, entering first and allowing Lexington to copy his actions so he could close the door behind her.
Then, silence.
He had this weird tendency of going quiet on her..
But in all fairness, she did it back to him, too.
Turning, her ears flattened and she narrowingly stared, until he said.
"Sit, please." And gestured to the guest chair before his grand desk that was littered with papers and coffee stains. Lexington complied, seating herself by tucking her tail to the side and crossing both her arms and legs before her.
Walden sat himself as well, across from Lex with a stern glare, one his eyes usually held whether he was doing paperwork, shouting orders, or just staring down at his empty mug of joe.
Either way, that same damned, awkward silence settled over them again.
Their eyes met, and they stared. Shorter than before because Walden moved, his hand drifting to his right drawer to pull it open. He reached inside and retrieved..
A deck of cards.
Suddenly, everything made sense, and a feeling of loathing and dread teemed inside of Lexington. She tilted her head back and softly groaned.
It was this again.
A pair of punishment and his insomnia.
Walden was a.. Odd man.
Mentally ill, sleep and touch deprived, most likely depressed, and last but certainly not least..
An insomniac.
But no, he just couldn't stay up all night by himself, could he?
He couldn't stare at the walls, count the seconds ticking on the clock, couldn't pace the halls of the factory all alone.
He just had to drag her into everything he did.
It was divine punishment of sorts.
So, he shuffled the cards with a sleepy precision, and Lexington stared at the ceiling.
Questioning why, just why.
She wasn't left to dwell for much longer, though, for Walden cleared his throat and squinted at her with a 'deal with it' sort of look.
In response, Lexington growled and snatched her deck of cards from his hands.
Their fingers brushed, but neither reacted. Walden stared intensely, and Lexington glared at anything she could've.
Then, the games began. First, it was 'Go Fish', then 'Uno', 'Black Jack', and anything he could think of to entrap her here.
When she won, he said, "Best two out of four?"
He won?
"That was luck, not calculation. Let's try again."
Again and again, till Lexington was barely seeing through a sliver of her eyelids and slouching in her chair. Her ears were drooping, and her left hand, which was free of cards, was quite aggressively gripping her armrest.
But that wasn't a red flag to Walden.
Only a sign he was getting to her bit by bit.
Time dragged on till it was 5 am, and Lexington was convinced this was hell itself.
And finally, he broke.
Walden sighed, and his shoulders sagged. The cards slipped through his fingers and scattered over his laptop with a mopey air to them.
He was beaten.
And Lexington? She was utterly gone.
The only semblance of consciousness she had was that scowl that always met her lips when she saw him.
But she was still too tired to move, speak, or retaliate as he rose from his desk and removed his blotched lab coat.
Too tired to remember the slight softness to his scoff as he perched his lab coat over her limp being and the mumble that escaped him.
"Sweet dreams, KitKat."
A nickname he mentally gave the kitty that he 'took' in. One he never once uttered to her.
KitKat.
His KitKat.
Even if she hated it, and even if he sometimes hated it too.