[ Cont. from here w. @triptocained ]
Last night didnât provide good sleep for Norman but he was honestly used to it. Heâs not exactly certain on the reason behind keeping him awake. There was nothing wrong with the hotel he was staying in or the surrounding environment yet he continued to spend hours tossing and turning, unable to close his eyes.
As a result he showed up to work exhausted, only smiling and nodding in response whenever someone tried to strike a conversation with him. He was busy swiping through files until he suddenly felt arms around his shoulders, removing his glasses and glancing upwards at the owner.
âI wish I could say I did but itâs been the total opposite,â he admitted, face lighting up a little once he caught sight of the presented coffee. Maybe the hotel room wasnât working out for him but the FBI were paying him to stay there. âI really appreciate you taking the moment to bring me this coffeeâŚâ
The detective frowns softly at Normanâs response, but sheâs in absolutely no position to judge. She didnât exactly have a good relationship with sleep either. A hushed sigh escaped her lips, â..-you know, you can always call me if youâre having trouble sleeping, love.â She leans up, gently massaging his tense shoulders, âI stopped by a cafe on the way to work--I thought you might like a respite from breakroom coffee.â
Spotting a bit of hair slightly out of place, Harper goes to brush it back, brows furrowing as she feels heat radiating from him. She places the back of her hand to his forehead, gasping softly. âNorman, youâre burning up. Are you feeling alright?â Her voice is laced with concern. Had he come to work ill?
