You loved your boss, you appreciated your boss, you thought she was incredible at what she did, but sometimes, she was SUCH a b*tch.
She was a pretty lady, gorgeous even. Her skin was a deep shade of caramel brown, her eyes a stunning gold, her hair a curly mane of black. She was always immaculate, perfect at everything she did. She enjoyed throwing random riddles your way to loosen your brain up before you got into the exhausting part of your job. She was kind and helped you if you were stuck in a mess you didn't understand. But when she was stressed?
THAT was when you began to fear for both your physical and mental health.
The sword had come in yesterday, and the exhibit was due to open tomorrow. You cursed every power in the entire universe that had caused the damn thing to arrive so late that there was only one day in between its arrival and the unveiling because who did that mean would have to stay up all night, working?
You, of course.
"Y/N!" your boss had screeched, tearing into the little space you had made for yourself in the corner of the messy back room as you frantically did the double-check on each of the items already here, "IT'S HERE, THE SWORD'S HERE!"
You had instantly leapt up, your laptop hastily placed on the ground. "It's the day before the exhibit opens! I thought we concluded-"
"I know what we concluded, Y/N!" she interrupted you, still essentially vibrating with excitement or stress, you weren't sure. But all you did was snap your mouth shut and tilt your head to the side, giving her an exasperated look as she continued. "But I just opened the box and the damn sword is here."
And so that was how you, the intern of the museum, was stuck in the damn place all day, researching, polishing, checking, dusting, double-checking, triple-checking the validity of the stupid sword that stupidly decided to come so late. You had no idea who had shipped it over from Greece, but you cursed them with every fiber of your being as your eyes turned blurry from staring at your screen all day and your limbs turned to jelly and all you wanted to do was sleep even through you knew you had missed your entire day of classes and that was definitely going to spell some more extra work for you.
F*ck everything, but especially f*ck this sword.
Finally, you unceremoniously slammed your laptop shut and stood up. It was the middle of the night, it was cold in the museum, most of the lights were required to be shut off to conserve power, and so it was also dark. Your head hurt, your chest felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls, and you were absolutely done.
"Adra!" you yelled, calling out for the curator of the museum, "Ms. Adra, I'm going home now!"
There was a moment of silence before the tall woman dressed in a snappy brown blazer (in clear contrast to your hoodie and ripped jeans) walked out of her office, staring into her phone, dark bags under her eyes making clear that she was as done with life as you. "Did you finish, Y/N?" she asked, rubbing her forehead with one hand even while she glanced at her phone screen, the white light illuminating her face with a ghostly glow. You bit your lip and sighed.
"No," you admitted, rubbing the back of your neck, "I still have some last-minute checking to do, but we have until tomorrow night, so-"
Your curator interrupted you. "No, Y/N, tomorrow is totally going to be focused with setting up the displays. If we can't show the sword, we can't wait until tomorrow to figure it out, because then the configuration will be ruined. Finish it,"
You head pounded in protest. "But Ms. Adra-"
She held up a hand to silence you, but before she could speak, her eyes fell over your ragged form, slumped and absolutely exhausted from all the work and stress. Was the internship at the museum worth it? Well, no student had ever been recruited before, but you were always at the top of your class, your brain soaking up information like a sponge. If there was anyone suited for this job, it was you. And paired with your eccentric curator who was always asking people to solve riddles (all of which, you could note with pride, you had been able to correctly answer), there was no better match for setting up the Greek Treasures exhibit than you.
But you were still a young adult, and you needed your rest. Perhaps your boss realized this in that splint second, because she slowly let down her hand and sighed.
"Fine," she relented, tipping her head back so she could glare at the ceiling, "you can go. BUT-" she called just as you had slumped in relief and were basically about to sprint the hell out of there, "-take the sword with you."
...what?
First of all, the sword was the museum's property. Taking something like that home would be an absolute disaster, even if it was for the museum's purposes. And second, that damn thing was heavy, far too heavy for your already-malnourished student body. And be-f*cking-sides, how were you supposed to walk through the streets of this small town with that huge-ass sword without getting arrested?
And yet...you wanted to keep your internship...
"Ms. Adra, I don't think-" you began, but your curator interrupted you once more.
"Not a word. I've read over all of the reports you've given, and if there's even the slightest chance that I'm correct, you need to take the sword home."
What an odd thing to say. Your tired brain didn't exactly follow all the words she was throwing at you, but with the intense look in Ms. Adra's golden-brown eyes, you knew better than to argue further. You turned towards the bronze kopis nestled comfortably in the brown shreds of stuffing within the wooden crate beside you, preparing to pick it up.
The sword itself was a beautiful thing- Greek-styled, and yet long, stick-straight on one edge and comfortably sloping inward on the other. It shimmered and gleamed a beautiful shade of glittery reddish-bronze. It seemed to glow with a light of its own in the dimness of the scaffolded museum room, a pretty red gleam. The handle was ornate, again, straight on one side and worn down, curved into fingerholds on the other. The entire thing was ornate- once studded with diamonds all along the side, now only a few near the bottom remaining.
As your fingers drew near to it, you swore you could feel it humming.
"NO!" Ms. Adra's yell shook you out of your trance as you looked at her in surprise, "Don't touch it, Y/N. You should know better. Take the crate. It's only a short walk to your apartment building, right? You should be fine."
You wanted to scream in protest, but, then again, you wanted to keep your internship. With only a grunt to signal your tired displeasure, you complied, pressing the lid down on the lightweight wooden crate and hauling it up. It was heavy, but it was nothing you hadn't dealt with before.
You could have sworn it felt heavier when you were lifting it by itself, though. But that was ridiculous, because life didn't work that way. It must have been the exhaustion getting to your brain.
"Alright, Ms. Ad- Adra," you couldn't keep the yawn from breaking up your tired sigh as you tilted your head at her in farewell. "I'll be back in the morning to help with the-"
"Don't bother," she brushed you off, waving a hand in your direction as you exited the museum, your head foggy with sleep deprivation and the fact that you would have to stay awake for hours to come, "After tonight, you're going to need all the rest you can get."
A/N: Sorry if it was short, Lovelies. I just wanted to get it out there :)