"What?" He asked when he felt me coming. I stood by him. We were at the top floor of the building. In front of us was a glass window where your eyes can reach the city full of lights and busy streets. Above us was an open space where the air was smoothly passing.
"What do you think about the planning team? Would they win your 'do it' this time?" I asked, "They prepared all of those the moment you abruptly took your leave and gave the project to that team." I finished.
He didn't reply. As always, I told myself. He was not fond of talking. He used to stay at his zone, that is, under his cap within that coldness atmosphere. This was rude of him, I knew.
"You know, I think you should consider that team. I mean, I witnessed their effort just to make it possible this time," I said. I waited for him to speak but he didn't dare to. Maybe he was tired. But he should go home if he was. I mentally rolled my eyes at him. I'm here beside you, I wanted to tell him but I knew I should not. He was just looking at the window like he was not with someone.
Someone. I should stop calling myself with a name like 'someone'. I'm not his someone. But they said, heart wants what it wants.
I dismissed the idea and thought of another words to say.
"Well, this time, they talked to me," I consciously laughed, "asking me what do you want for this project." I stopped for awhile to see his expression and he was staring at the window again. "And you know, I told them you don't like anything. It's always the thing that likes you so they don't have to bother guessing your ways." I awkwardly laughed to fill his silence.
He didn't answer, rather he responded by looking at me for like three seconds and turned his gaze away to the window again. Was this how he missed the city so much? I stared at his face and the feeling of missing him rushed into me.
His eyes were focused at the window. He was in deep thoughts, I see. I had memorized him all along — from his expressions to the tip of his veins. I remembered when I saw him running back then. If others saw him, they might think that there was an emergency, but rather he was running up here. I knew he would be here that time. I asked him what was the matter why he was in haste, and he told me he wanted to see someone. And how much I wished I was that someone.
"You go down," he said, "it's cold up here." He said while not looking at me. I could never forget how he talked to me like this everytime we were here.
I supposed this would happen. I thought for a second. He was telling me to go down again when I missed him very much for leaving without further notice. He never knew I wasn't prepared then for his sudden absence.
"Alright," I said and readied my feet to leave the place. I stepped twice when I decided I should not leave him.
I faced his back. He was tall and in all black. He was wearing his black cap, black coat, black pants and black shoes. I slowly walked to him and hugged him behind his back. I felt he stiffened. He was feeling lonely. My person was lonely.
"What are you doing?" He almost whisperingly said.
"I hate your silence asking me to do this," I said burying my face in his back, "I hate your eyes when they are contradicting your words." I tightened my arms around him, "You told me to leave and dare to stop me by not saying anything. How could you."
"What are you doing?" He flinched his body. I faced him instead of answering his question. I looked at him in the eyes, "You. Why are you doing this? How dare you." He was just looking at my eyes and did not speak.
This was one of the moment when his tangled thoughts were delivered straight from his depth to mine. He looked down and hissed. "I missed you," he whispered, "but I can't see you," he glanced up to me catching my confused expression, "I'm not messing up a whole to get its pieces for me," he continued and closely looked at my eyes, "I can't let an angel fall to a demon. Because I don't know how to guide a delicate soul in my inferno."
I was wearing my usual dress code. This one makes me feel safe and away from others. I didn't exactly know why either. My psychiatrist had been telling me that dresses help people to express themselves but I didn't feel safe in other colors.
I was at the top floor of the building. And I knew by second that she would be up here again. I intentionally went to my office to pass by her desk earlier. The wind here was calming, away from the noise that city was offering.
"What?" I pretentiously asked her. I saw her figure in the glass window slowly walking towards me. She always thought I have eyes on my back because I kept on catching her getting out from the door and watching my back in silence. She walked towards me showing her full teeth smiling like she was up to something. How I missed this mischief evening scenario.
"What do you think about the planning team?" She started asking and I knew she would talk and talk regardless of my silence. One of the things that I liked about her was she was all ready to put up with me, with all my roughness and overrated timidity. "Would they win your 'do it' this time? They prepared all of those the moment you abruptly took your leave and gave the project to the team."
I love listening to her voice wording her thoughts out loud. I didn't want her stop from talking so I kept on listening. It had been month since I heard her voice. I was away and malfunctioning because my sanity was here, with her, taking in the full thoughts of her.
"You know, I think you should consider that team. I mean, I witnessed their effort just to make this possible." She suggestively said. I know. They had been consulting me about this project's progress. I thought of putting her in charge of informing me the progress of this project to have a communication with her. After all, she was once assigned as the head of planning department.
I was just staring at her through her reflection in the window. I wished I could look at her like this face to face. Her lips stopped talking and it tingled my heart when she twisted her lips out of cute annoyance. I saw her frowning and I wanted to suppress my laugh because she was doing it again. When she thought she mentally did a certain expression but actually did it.
"Well, this time, they talked to me. Asking me what do you want for this project," she said. "And you know, I told them you don't like anything. It's the thing that likes you so they don't have to bother guessing your ways."
Yes. She kept on saying I didn't know how to like things because I didn't give any visual reaction. She didn't even know that I want her, that she's the company I promised to hold on to but afraid to do so.
But my feelings had to go. It had to if I want happiness next to her disposition. I tired my eyes staring up to her though I know I would be looking for that face after minutes of not seeing its naiveté.
"You go down," I said with my heart gripping itself as a punishment for making her leave, "it's cold up here." My throat was dry enough to let my words flow raucously.
My feelings had to go because I can't. I can't be with her. I was messed up myself alone. I wasn't capable of making her eyes twinkle like what girls dream of. I can't. I can't risk her smiles for my selfish heartbeat.
"Alright," she faintly said. She turned her back. I looked down because I didn't like to see her putting distance between us.
I was startled when I abruptly felt her arms caging me in and her hands holding each other. I was lost of words, "What are you doing?" I felt nervous with her close like this. Why did it always have to be her hobby giving me symptoms of heart disease.
"I hate your silence asking me to do this," she said and buried her face in my back, "I hate your eyes when it's contradicting your words." she tightened her hold, "You told me to live and dare to stop me by not saying anything. How could you."
How could I? I didn't know either. I knew nothing when the thing was you. I only knew how to intentionally bring you here without directly saying it to you. I only knew how to let you see me without even telling you. I only knew how to keep these all in me. That's all I knew.
"What are you doing?" I asked again. I didn't know what to say.
She faced me and looked straight into my eyes catching the unravelling soul that had been hiding inside me willing to be touched and hummed by her warmth, "You. Why are you doing this? How dare you." She said.
Why. How can I dare ask you to stay and watch my incapability of making you happy when making my day was your expertise that even seeing the curves of your brows gave comforts to my deteriorated self. Tell me how could my lungs breathe when I knew I would hinder your fantasies when you can always effortlessly fulfill mine. Tell me how could I hold your hands when I know the possibilities of ripping it from you. I knew. I could hurt you like this and even worse than this.
I looked down and hissed as my wall of hesitation fell bit by bit because of the sudden approach she did. I knew I shouldn't be looking at her if I don't want to mess her thoughts up. But.
"I missed you," I whispered feeling my chest ready to blow up, "but I can't see you," I looked up to her, "I'm not messing up a whole to get its pieces for me," I checked on her expression, "I can't let an angel fall to a demon. I don't know how to guide a delicate soul all the way in my inferno."