Third season angst.
--
His arms. Her touch. Whispers like feathers that just barely graze their touching skin. His eyes lock with hers and time is frozen in place, framing their perfect moment. Her breath catches at the same time he slowly and agonizingly draws his finger up and down her bare arm.
Entangled in each other's embrace they stand, feeling their hearts beating at the same time. His lips come down to meet hers in the middle and she tastes cinnamon. Her hands snake up to clutch the golden brown hair she loves so much.
He glances at the clock and, if possible, hugs her even closer to his body so he could feel her breathing, in and out. He silently speaks the last words she wants to hear and she pulls away to look at his face. His startlingly beautiful, off-limits face that she fell so in love with. She realizes her hands are still grasped to fists of his button-down shirt and she loosens her grip, surprised at how sore her hands are. Their eyes meet again and he can tell she's thinking of things. He's thinking a thousand and one things and he doesn't have to read her mind to know that she's thinking the same.
Her hands are now at her sides, no longer entwined in the comfort of his shirt. His pale blue shirt still remembers her and holds wrinkles from her tiny hands.
She's crying. He's crying. The orange evening sun shines throughout the office as they both leave the breakroom in tears.
It was dawn. Roy would be here, picking her up, just as usual. And she would pretend that everything was fine, just like usual. And he would sit at his desk, heartbroken and alone, wondering why she never left him, just like every other day like this. So close, but yet so far.
Trembling, she leaves the office, her fiancé at her side, like normal. And Karen would come and will come. And he will leave the office, his girlfriend at his side.
Because nothing like this ever lasts forever.
Together, but apart, just like always.
