—~𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝&𝐜𝐨 •👻

The usually bustling halls of 35 Portland Row are eerily quiet as you make your way through the dimly lit corridors. A sense of unease settles over you as you approach Lockwood's room

5 months ago, two months prior to the agency's opening, you and lockwood married. However the two had been living together 2 years prior. George moved in a year after.

You push open the door, the creak of hinges echoing through the room as you step inside. What you find stops you dead in your tracks—a sight you never thought you'd see. Anthony Lockwood, fearless leader of Lockwood & Co, lies sprawled on his bed, his usually vibrant and piercing demeanor replaced by a pallor of sickness.

Lockwood's breathing is labored, his brow furrowed in discomfort as he tosses fitfully in his sleep. A sheen of sweat coats his forehead, his chest rising and falling in shallow, ragged breaths. It's a stark contrast to the confident, unyielding figure you're accustomed to seeing.

You brush the hair from his forehead, your touch cool against his fevered skin. Lockwood stirs at your touch, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours.

Lockwood manages a weak smile, though it's clear that he's struggling to maintain his composure. He tried to speak but voice hoarse with illness.