It was the usual routine every day. They would exchange glances on the train, through the city and in the elevator to their different offices, where they would click away at their desks before repeating it all in reverse once more.
Two years of glances but not a single word was uttered.
She upheld her obligatory half-smiles each day as she stepped out of the train. His lips had been plastered in a thin, unmoving line as he walked briskly through the commuter traffic, like he judged anyone who was ever late.
In her opinion, he was made of ice, unmelted by the warmth of strangers and afraid of connection. If she was the sun, he was tucked away deep into the vacuum of space where no light could be transmitted.
As they journeyed to their separate floors in the shaky elevator, she counted the seconds until he would depart; when the tension would melt off, and she could finally breathe without needing to worry if she were too loud in the echoey box. Five… Four… Three. She counted down in her mind as the elevator rocked unusually. Two… She hummed as it appeared to slow too early. One… She thought as the doors had not opened. And then the lights spread out with a loud thud.
She held tight unto the metal handrails and waited for her stomach to drop, expecting the adrenaline of a roller-coaster ride to overcome her stomach. Instead, the light flickered back on with a powerful blitz, but the elevator remained stationary. Her palms were sweaty and she breathed heavily. Glancing toward the blonde-haired man, she could see that he, too, seemed to have pictured the worst. His leather briefcase, which he usually carried around with such pride, was cast aside on the floor, and his arrogant features for a moment seemed fractured. His brown eyes displayed panic. His cheeks had wrinkles on them.
“Whew.” He began with an unsteady breath. “That’s one way to begin your day.” His voice seemed deeper than she expected, like the cello of a symphony orchestra.
“Y-yeah.” She struggled to get the words out.
He reached for his blazer and put on a thick pair of black glasses. She had never seen him put them on before. There was something about the roundness that softened his features. He patiently waited as he pressed the red call button that rested at the bottom of the elevator panel. It seemed like forever before the receiver answered, but when they did, he spoke calmly with the team on the other side.
“Hope you don’t mind bunking with me in the meantime.” He laughed.
“Oh… Uh… No, not really.” She had envisioned speaking with him for the first time, of breaking the ice, for a long time. It was a rehearsed script in her head, but she never really prepared herself for the moment to actually come.
He shook her sweaty palm gently. “The name’s Richard.”
“Agnes.” She smiled.
“Pleased to meet you.” He said and then slid down the wall and made himself comfortable. His demeanour shifted her focus, and from the way he casually picked at his nails between the awkwardly long pauses, it was obvious he was sensing it, too.
“So what exactly do you do here?” She asked in an act of courage as she slid down the wall opposite him.
“Behavioural psychology.” He responded. “How yourself?”
She had to compose herself, seeing he was a body language expert.
“Software developer.” She commented with a bit of agitation in her voice.
“Sounds difficult.” He took her verbal suggestion relatively quickly, and the atmosphere thickened once more.
She drummed her fingers on the floor, finding contentment in the way her acrylics echoed through the shared space. She knew the words to utter from her mouth. She kept playing them over in her head with different deliveries, not sure of which one to go with. As the thought of the bottomless floor beneath her sank in, her fear decided for her.
“So, you basically spend your whole day analysing people’s behavior.” It was quite forceful.
“When I am at the office.” He responded.The words left her mouth unexpectedly. “What made you decide so sudden that you hated me then?”
“Agnes?” He laughed nervously.
“I smiled every single day.”
“Oh… Agnes.”
“And at first I thought maybe you’re just shy.” Her hair became dishevelled as her expression took control over her body.
“Ag-”
“But it appears you are not.”
“Agnes.” He made moved closer to her and placed his hand on her shoulder with a gentle squeeze. The sudden touch muted her as though she were paralysed.
“I can’t see anything other than shapes two feet in front of me without my glasses, but they give me the most rotten headaches. I thought you were looking behind me.”
“Oh.” She dropped her head into her palms.
“Oh, no.” He laughed.
“So all this time-”
“Yes.” She cut in as her face reddened.
The out burst of laughter that followed could have sent the elevator swinging through the sky.
“Oh, my.” He said as he placed his phone into her hand. “How about we start all over?”
Posted Using INLEO
