Dispatch

Memories

A/N: How are you all doing?

I'm currently at the office and I'm not very present. Lol!

I do not promote procrastination but for me it's good sometimes.

Enjoy this update my loves

***

After a few weeks, Gulf had surprisingly fared better than he had anticipated. That is, as well as he can give that he and the man he works for had hardly spoken to one another over those weeks and that the few occasions they had conversed invariably resulted in disputes that were poisonous and ranged from juvenile to belligerent.

The good days were when they handled their synchronized work schedules without ever glancing at one another. He hoped he could request a transfer because he didn't appreciate being forced to be Mew's photographer, but he was precisely where he needed to be. He just didn't want Mew present; he wasn't interested in a different team or department.

Gulf kept complaining about how unpleasant it was to work with someone he had formerly been friends, despite Saint's repeated assurances that the matter was minor and easily overlooked (and receiving a slap on the shoulder every time he made a face at Saint's words).

He would frequently leave the building during breaks and wander to a surrounding riverfront because it was out of the way of most activities. Rarely did anyone pass by, so it was peaceful and relaxing.

The stillness and tranquility Gulf yearned for were never broken by the few who did. He enjoyed taking advantage of the hour long lunchtime break to reflect on the state of affairs and gauge his level of satisfaction with his accomplishments. And for him, things were going steadily enough that he hardly had any issues.

And perhaps, just perhaps, if he persisted long enough, they would hire him to work for someone much better—someone who wouldn't constantly make him want to shout and rip out his own hair in annoyance. If Mew had been anybody else, he would have been a simple guy to work for because he rarely complained about his work, didn't argue with the staff, and just let them do what they wanted.

Mew would simply nod and obediently do out instructions.

Mew was pulled around, told what to do or where to stand, and Gulf watched as he simply bit his lip to prevent himself from actually expressing any of his thoughts. Gulf found it amusing and immensely satisfying. When Mew made a mistake, someone would always scream at him to fix it, which was very fulfilling to Gulf.

As he strolled along the narrow road along the river, a faint smile started to develop as he imagined the humiliated and terrified look on Mew's face every time he did anything incorrect. He attempted to picture the look on Mew's face once again as he looked to the still river, but he felt a tiny pain in his chest and a sensation that something was lodged in his throat. Just to swallow that lump required many tries, so he stopped and peered out over the lake.

It was hatred. It was a combination of revulsion, rage, hatred, and irritation that lodged in his throat. His breathing became difficult, his fingers began to tremble in reply, and his legs almost gave way under him due to the recollections that his mind was straining to relive. He sincerely wanted to leave them in the past, but he was unable to.

Every time he was given five uninterrupted minutes to contemplate without being surrounded by loud noises and headache-inducing flashing lights, they would always show up.

However, he did nothing but remain still and gaze out at the still lake. As all of his memories flooded back to him, his legs shook but also threatened to move, and he lowered his gaze in an effort to tell himself that he couldn't.