It was the same every morning: the pure scent of fresh brewed espresso, the gurgling growl of the coffee maker, the click of heels. She was always there early, making his drink, doing work for him. His eyes followed her as she moved around the kitchen. He watched her from the corner of his eye while he ruffled the pages of a newspaper. He cared little for what was actually on the printed page; nothing there interested him at all. She interested him. Her movements graceful, delicate, and at the same time powerful– she knew what she wanted.
She never looked at him, not unless she was worried he would try something, never speaking to him, despising his very presence in her boss' house. He had taken up residency on the man's couch more than three months ago, yet she still detested him just as much as the first day she'd met him. It wasn't actually a meeting, more of a scream. Her boss received the biggest headache from her fist knocking into his teeth.
Things were much less violent now, but not any less tensioned. She walked by him stiffly every morning, ignoring him. She made coffee without turning around, pouring a fresh cup for one man, and a tiny espresso to go with it. Then she would leave, without saying a single word.
He wasn't sure when it happened; one day he caught himself staring at her perfect figure, her dazzling eyes. Taking in the way her hair swayed around her shoulders when down, or flipped around her shoulder-blades when tugged into a tight ponytail. She was off-limits to him, and he still continued to admire her. Whenever he heard her speak to the man of the house, his heart would clench, stomach twisting. He would close his eyes and swallow hard as pain indescribable slipped through his throat and pierced his heart.
He flipped the page on the newspaper. It wrinkled, and he momentarily focused on straightening it. When he glanced back at the woman, her eyes averted quickly. She had been watching him. Her delicate lashes of light red brushed her eyebrows and cheeks when she blinked, watching the cup as she stirred in sugar. This morning, she appeared to be moving in slow motion, almost as if time had slowed just for him.
The sun graced her, warming her, making her glow in its brilliance. He felt his throat constrict as he looked down, away from her. Oh, how soft her hair looked in that light - to be the hand that were able to brush gentle over the silken locks of red, to take in her sweet scent!
A flicker of irritation crossed his mind, reminding him once again – as it did every morning – that she was not available. Even if she were, she would reject him. He could just see the fury in those eyes; those beautiful eyes, and the way she would stand. He lifted his eyes to the words, still unable to comprehend them, nor really trying to.
Once in a while, he would ponder how he could make her understand how he felt, imagining different things he would do to convince her of his honesty. Giving her flowers, making her coffee (though he was terrible at it), taking her out to eat; maybe even giving her chocolates. None of it sounded as if it would work, and none of the scenarios ever worked out properly in his mind.
No, she was completely out of his reach, so far away it was like reaching for a glass of water in the desert – impossible. Never had something been held so far, so impossibly out of his reach before. It made his heart suffer torment.
He fixed his gaze on her once more, peering at her through lowered lashes. She already had a lover, a man in her life to call her own – she wasn't his for the taking.
Her heels clicked on the floor as she picked up the tray laden with breakfast for the genius, her eyes flickered to him for a moment, this time he held her gaze as she walked by. Quickly she looked away, the sound of her heels fading as she descended into the lab.
Indeed, he turned back to his paper, feeling as if a knife were driven into his throat. She was someone's love, and he was nothing more than an enemy, forever to be hated by the only woman he ever loved. There was not a single hope that she would ever look at him and see how he felt, what he wanted to say to her.
It was over before it had even begun. Love found and lost all in the same instant.