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A lone figure sat hunched over a pile of paper in the corner of the dimly oil-lit Hair of the Dog Saloon on a cold February morning, scribbling away at a journal. Arthur Lovelace had been sitting at that table in silence for God knows how long, and his fading demeanor was doing him no favor of hiding his overworked state.
Metal met wood as a fountain pen fell out of his hand, Arthur groaned from the back of his throat and brought his hand to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose, finding his own deteriorating concentration rather frustrating, thoughts floating elsewhere away from his work, their destination though not very clear. Soon, Arthur let his face fall pressed against his forearms crossed on the table, allowing the body to relish in the lost tension from having forced his neck upright for as long as he had. He clenched his eyes shut for a moment before forcing himself back up and into alertness, only to be met with a hazy figure in his peripheral and a soft thunk of a pair of ceramic mug hitting his table.
Arthur near jumped out of his skin, pressing his back against the wall to his right and loudly catching his , glaring daggers into the sudden presence and bristling like a cornered cat. "Woah! Easy there big guy," Jesse pushed a mug closer to Arthur, taking a sip of his own as his slid into the chair across from him, where the hell had he even come from, Arthur hadn't heard him open the door, "Haha- Damn, Arthur, you look like hell! Have you gotten any sleep at all?" Jesse tilted his head, resting a cheek in his palm in a characteristic ease. Arthur sighs deeply in response, relaxing in his chair a bit and reaching for the mug given to him. He brings it up to his nose and sniffs it hesitantly as if it were going to jump out at him, "It's just coffee- Have you even close your eyes in the week? Have you eaten?" Arthur brings the cup up to his lips, taking a slow sip while making solid eye contact with the man across from him, dark circles shading his eyes where the brim of his hat usually would, then sets it down and picks up his pen in its place, returning his attention back to his writing. The corner of Jesse's mouth twitches and he stood, bringing his cup with him. "Right. I'll be back."
After a few more minutes of calculated scribbling, Arthur sets his journal aside and pulls out his hunting knife and a sharpening stone, leaning back in his chair and mindlessly dragging his blade across the stone, though his trance was short lived as it was once more interrupted by two more ceramic clunks followed by the sitting of the barkeeper.
He opens his eyes, observing the plates of food before him carefully, one with carefully slopped pile of lamb stew and the other with a rather strangely colored slice of apple pie, but still reached into his satchel for his money clip, only to be stopped by Jesse "Don't worry about payment." Arthur quirked a brow, "You know I'm fully capable of paying for this. It's 85 cents." Jesse shrugged, waving a hand, "Yeah, but I like you. We'll call it an early lunch." Arthur gave him an incredulous look, but resigned.
Looking back down at the two plates, most of his attention landed on the notably odd looking pie. He picked up his fork and poked at it, "What's... What's wrong with it? Why is it pink?" Arthur asked with furrowed eyebrows, evidently perturbed by the disruption in his regular pie routine. Jesse tilted his gaze away from Arthur and looked at the plate, "I think Mrs. Arnold was doing somethin' fancy for the holiday. Something about a saint. She used dried strawberries from last Summer, she said." Arthur hummed in skepticism, finally deciding to stab into it and take a hesitant bite. Tasted fine, maybe a bit sweeter than normal, but fine.
Interrupting the silence Arthur had been desperately trying to ignore the presence of, Jesse spoke up, "What's that you were working on?" Reaching a hand towards the journal Arthur had shoved in the corner of the table, though it was quickly snatched and stowed away, "Ledger for hunting supplies. Don't worry about it." Jesse chuckled through his nose, "Looked like a diary to me. Adorable." Arthur looked up, eyes narrowed and mouth pulled back in a grimace, "You'd better watch your mouth." Jesse held his hands up, leaning back in his chair "Haha, you make it too easy." Arthur huffed, glaring and wolfing down the last bits of stew, then pushing the plates away with Jesse swiftly grabbing and carrying them to the sink behind the bar.
"Thanks for the food." Arthur spoke dully, holding his head limply in his hands for a moment while watching Jesse across the bar from behind his fingers. After a minute he stands and slings his satchel over a shoulder, making a wary attempt to navigate himself towards the stairs and up to his room. As energizing as a warm mug of coffee and a meal was, it evidently was not enough to negate several days having neglected night-time retirement. At this rate, the caffeine had probably done more harm than good. One step onto the stairs was one swift demonstration backwards of the theory of gravity, though he was immediately caught under the diligent eye of a well-rested Jesse.
"Good lord, Arthur, what kind of strategic advantage is this giving you?" Jesse joked, making a vain attempt to guide the other up to the second floor before he busted his head open on his wooden floors, though naturally only to be met with strife, "Get the hell off me, I don't need you doting over me like a wife." Arthur flung Jesse's arms away from him with a burst of previously unseen energy, though it was extremely short lived. "Partner, this is not fight you're going to be winning." Jesse quite easily overpowered him in this state, and he began carefully dragging him up the stairs. "And I am not going to be the one cleaning up your blood from my floor because you were too damn stubborn. Deal with that enough on Fridays as is." Jesse punctuated every few words with a step, before making it to the top with the sleepless hunter and tossing him towards his door. "If you get to that room and do anything other than sleep, I will personally melt down every bullet you own into a hammer to knock you out myself." Arthur thudded pathetically into the wall and crinkled his nose at Jesse, "What're you waiting for, a kiss goodnight?" Jesse bickered, pausing his descent to the first floor to contest him. Arthur's expression tensed and he opened his door, slinking into his room and slamming it behind him.