every-last-inch-of-meâ:
Gaston stared at her for a moment.Â
Y i k e s.
Heâd seen the waters swell just above her lower lid and should have know then that worse things were to come. When a women got wet eyes, you knew the world was over.
He quietly shuffled her towards the stockroom, pressing the door open with the heel of his foot and guiding her in. Crying wasnât good for business. And as much as everyone these days liked to pretend that it was an excellent way to balance your emotions, Gaston was firmly of the belief that crying wasnât much good for anything else for that matter. Especially not him. Especially not when it was in his armpit and he wasnât sure if he should pat her back or simply replace himself with a jumbo pack of crisps walk in the other direction.
âDo you want to sit down and have a drink?â He asked, brushing some paperwork off of a stool and dragging it towards her. âA chat?â He signed. Not that he really wanted one. Certainly not if he meant sheâd cry some more. But heâd grown kind of attached to his staff and there was some disgusting protective part of him that thought this might be the nice thing to do.
The girl allowed herself to be shuffled about by the shoulders, eyes too blurred by her tears to see much of anything. She was virtually blinded, couldnât hear. Mirium was trusting Gaston not to run her into anything or to just dump her on the sidewalk outside. Mirium also knew he would never; despite what many people said about him, sheâd seen a side of the man that endeared him towards her, particularly where his concerns for his employees (namely herself and Claude, Ella when sheâd been more present) lay. Â
Glancing up when they stopped, Mirium watched as he dragged a stool closer through her bangs, sniffling a bit and fiddling with her hands. She felt pitiful, honestly. Crying on her boss hadnât been on the list of things sheâd wanted to do tonight but, well, it was done.Â
The corner of her mouth quirked up when he signed at her, settling back against something in the stockroom. She kind of nodded, giving him a motion to wait for a moment, asking the question with her hands and her brow, ever expressive as she heaved herself up onto the stool heâd given her. Her legs swung about a foot off the ground but she didnât care. Feeling like a child wasnât on the cards right now. She puffed out her cheeks and rubbed at the tear tracks that stained them with a corner of her sleeve, silent for a moment before clearing her throat.Â
Mirium looked back up at him and then began to sign once more. âI havenât been sleeping. Last time I did was...almost a week ago. Can get a few bits here and there but,â a shrug, âI keep...seeing things. Those dreams the town gets. Theyâve...started coming back.âÂ


















