I'm sorry I didn't update. I started feeling uncomfortable about some of the content in this story, and especially about some words I dropped way too carelessly. This is an entirely innocent chapter really. I hope you like it. I hope this finishes up soon because I have a really cool AU in store for my next fic. But that doesn't mean I'm going to rush this story. My last AP test of the year was yesterday, so I'll have more time to write and finish up this story for you. I foresee a couple more chapters - maybe it'll reach a clean 20 chapters, if I'm lucky. :)

Chapter Seven

Wednesday

Tip tap tip tap tip tap.

He drummed his fingers frustratedly on the wood of the table in front of him, trying very hard not to think.

The report was on his desk, glaring at him with disgust. e tried to avoid looking at it and focused instead on anything else. The first thing his eyes could find was - not so surprisingly - the secretary.

She was swivelling in her chair idly, her head leaning back and her eyes pasted on the ceiling, a soft smile on her thin lips.

Natsume stared at her - he wanted to know more about her, to talk to her, to sit next to her, find out what she was thinking as she gazed mysteriously at the panels above her. But he couldn't; the enemy was right behind that door - listening, observing, waiting - ready to call Natsume back in to scold him for not obeying.

And so he made do with watching her, grateful to her obliviousness. Her blouse was pastel yellow and sleeveless, dotted with white circles. Her tights were plain white this time under her beige pleated skirt. She really did look kind of cute - as much as Natsume was reluctant to admit it.

"Sakura!" screamed Serio from behind the door. "Get back to work!"

The secretary's head swung upright and her fingers immediately poised above her keyboard as her full cheeks turned bright pink while her mouth quivered uncertainly.

Natsume knew Serio's demand was also intended for him, so he forced his eyes away from the girl begrudgingly. Why did life have to be so cruel?

Continuing work was an agonizing process. The report kept eyeing him, egging him on and daring him to shred it completely.

He refused and kept his eyes glued to the laptop screen, set on finishing the busy work Serio assigned him.

"Psst. . ." came the sweet sound of a tempting escape. Natsume cast his eyes up and there pleasant honey brown excitedly met him. "He's so bossy!" she hissed. She smiled, then, looking him up and down.

"Are you checking me out?" Natsume whispered snidely.

"What?!" she choked out. "Of course not!" Her face cast downward and she twirled a loose lock of hair around her finger. "I'm just happy you decided to start talking to me again."

A knot in his stomach lurched the rest of it forward and he decided then that that feeling was guilt distilled with regret.

He wanted to rush over to her and pet her head, or hold her hand, or let her know that it hadn't been her fault.

He didn't know why he had started feeling this way about a silly little girl that still played Neopets for Christ's sake, but he didn't feel like fighting what simply couldn't be fought.

And yet he stayed in his chair, so aware that the silence from Serio's room meant more caution, not less. He cast a small smile at her and offered a thumbs up sign.

It really seemed like a good idea in his mind for a fleeting second. His actions caught up to him right after they took place and the back of his neck set on fire.

She chuckled - it was such a sweet, hollow, clear, lovely laugh. He wouldn't mind listening to it all day. "You're so cute."

He didn't know what to do with those words - so he took them and let them linger at the top of his brain for a while. He wanted to bask in the fact that she had really just said that about him.

He realized then that he should reciprocate the compliment - but he couldn't. Serio was right behind that door and there was nothing Natsume could do about it.

"Oh, Polka Dots," he sighed, not working too hard to hide his affectionate tone. "You really should get to work."

He was reluctant but he coaxed his head to turn back to the computer screen so he could finish more arbitrary sorting.

"OK," she said, slightly disappointed - but why? Was it because she wanted to talk to him? Was it because he hadn't complimented her back?

He took a deep breath and decided to try and let it go.

The car ride home was pleasant for once. The window was down and the breeze was wafting in swiftly. The night was as happy as Natsume was, cool and calm and quietly content.

She spoke to him again. They were on speaking terms once more.

He was on the border of skipping when he parked and walked into the apartment complex. He was busy humming that song the secretary liked so much. Thinking of her was very easy. He wondered how he was accomplishing this - trying so hard not to think about the report in his briefcase.

"Ruuuukaaaa. . . ." he called as he stepped into the apartment. "AUGHGFEU!" He recoiled from the doorway in disgust as Ruka's lips ripped away from Hotaru Imai's. "Ew!" He was starting to sound juvenile but the sight was not something he wanted to see on a relatively cheerful day. "What are you doing?" he hissed.

Ruka, blushing furiously, started buttoning his shirt rapidly. Imai looked annoyed at Natsume's appearance. Her eyes bored into his, snapping at him, saying, "look what you've done".

"Nothing!" sing-songed Ruka. He beamed at Natsume, but his face was still cherry-red and his fingers were drumming his girlfriend's arm with embarrassment.

"I . . . I'm having a nice day," asserted Natsume proudly.

"That's great" sneered Imai, her voice colder than liquid nitrogen. "Could you stop hurting my friend, by the way?"

Natsume raised an eyebrow, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Why are you ignoring her?" Imai quipped darkly. "She is distraught over your dumb ass! 'Why is he so mean all of a sudden?' 'I thought he was starting to like me!' 'I wanted to get to know him better'-"

"What's her number?" Natsume interrupted, although he instantly regretted it.

The woman glared at him. "Why the hell do you deserve it?"

He couldn't see past her flawed logic. "I wanna fix something," he muttered. "Please."

Hotaru's scowl didn't falter, but she threw her expensive phone at his head anyway. "Just go to contacts. Don't screw this up."

Natsume nodded ecstatically. "Right." He transferred the secretary's number into his phone and lightly tossed her electronic device back to the cuddling heap on the couch.

Imai's judgmental violet gaze watched him. "I swear to God Hyuuga if you -"

"I won't," he affirmed. "I wouldn't. I just want to clarify something."

He passed through the hallway and walked into his dark room, not bothering to flick on the lights. He dialed her up and waited through three rings as his heart threatened to rip out of his chest each second.

What was he doing, really?

"Hello?" her bubbly voice answered.

He didn't say anything. She was there. He was having a real life phone call and she answered.

His breathing got heavy.

But Serio said that -

He was not there to spy on them, was he?

"Umm?" Her voice sounded slightly startled and Natsume realized he had been heaving his breath into the receiver.

"Are you alone?" he asked.

"Wh-Who is this?" she asked, her voice on the brink of forgetting fear.

"It's the sexy intern."

A sigh of relief.

"You idiot! You really scared me!" She laughed and her voice was breezy and clear.

Natsume was forgetting his intentions.

"I'm sorry," he bit out. "I really am."

Silence.

Natsume was getting nervous. Pacing seemed to be the only way to alleviate his anxiety.

"Intern . . ."

Tip tap tip tap tip tap.

His fingers were drumming against the wall, his forehead against the plaster. Everything was dark except for the light from his phone - the light from her.

"Serio is so fucking bossy," he finally agreed.

More silence.

"Let's talk," he proposed.

And finally, her voice came flowing from the speakers, soft and pleasant. "Sure."

She mostly led the conversation. She had a lot to say, Natsume noticed. His ex did too, now that he thought about it, but this was different. Natsume found himself unable to stop paying attention. He wanted to know what she was saying, what she was thinking, what she was feeling. He wanted to know about her family, her childhood, her hobbies.

"There's this candy shop," she said. "Right across the street from my dad's work. He used to get me a box of their special candy every single day on his way back home. They're called Howalons. They taste heavenly! Like all that's good in the world in one marshmallowy puff!"

They sounded amazing. "That sounds pretty good," Natsume commented.

"We should get some some time!" she mused. Natsume hummed in agreement. He wanted to see her eat a Howalon - he wanted to see her happy.

"What's your favorite food?" she asked then.

He didn't know how to answer. He didn't mind eating most food.

"Chocolate," he responded quickly.

"Wh-yyyy?" she chided childishly.

"Because -" he sighed. "Ruka and I used to eat it together all the time. Ruka's mom would pack both our lunches. My dad used to give me money to buy something after my mom died, but Ruka's mom figured that wasn't right and packed a lunch for me too. She always put a pretty sizable chunk of chocolate for us to eat. It's nice, I guess, thinking about that."

There was no answer.

Natsume checked to see if he'd accidentally hung up on the girl.

Nope - 29:52 and still counting.

"Polka Dots?" he whispered softly.

"Oh, Natsume," she sniffled.

The way she said his name made his heart flood over with blood.

"What?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

Quiet. And then, a reluctant, "For your mom."

"Why are you crying for that, silly?" he said, his voice trying to sound lighthearted. He really hadn't meant to bring up his mother. He just mentioned it, really. "It happened a long time ago. I'm OK now."

A tear-filled chuckle out of the speakers.

It was a laugh to show, not that she thought his statement was funny, but that she understood he didn't want to talk about it anymore.

He fell onto his bed, grasping his phone.

"Why do you keep calling me Polka Dots?" she teased, trying to change the subject.

He let her digress. "Because you're Polka Dots." He wanted to laugh, but he didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable.

"What's your favorite childhood memory?"

"Favorite?"

"Yeah, like what do you like thinking about?"

All of the memories that appeared in his head were of Ruka and Aoi, unsurprisingly.

"One time, Ruka and my sister and I went out to buy ice cream with some money my dad gave us. Aoi - my sister - she kept looking over at Ruka. She was like 6 then. Ruka and I were 8. It turned out that for that day only, Aoi had a crush on Ruka. She begged him to date her and he said yes because he is a people pleaser and doesn't like upsetting people - especially not annoying little sisters. So they dated for a day. We were picking our ice cream and Aoi demanded that she and Ruka share one - it was hilarious. Ruka played the gentleman and let Aoi eat the whole thing by herself." A smile grazed his lips.

Why was it so easy to talk to her like this? To share things he was sure were probably insignificant?

She laughed. "That's really funny! I can see his face!"

. . . Because she didn't think they were insignificant.

She fell asleep first.

She had been adamant about not hanging up until one of them was asleep. They chatted deep into the night, with her carefully coaxing him to spill some of his dark secrets while he listened silently to her stories and lively musings. She asserted again and again that she wouldn't be the one to fall asleep first.

And yet her stories began to lose energy, her breathing became more relaxed, her words less clear.

And then, he noticed with her voice pressed against his ear, that her breathing was too even and quiet to be of an awakened individual.

He smiled and listened to her breathe for a couple of minutes. It was almost like a lullaby in itself, the sound of her easy, hushed breathing, and before he knew it Natsume was starting to feel the consequence of this long phone call. That long 6 hour phone call. The sound of her life carried through the speakers as his eyelids flicked closed.

She hummed once, and he could see the soft smile on her lips as she dreamed - perhaps of Howalons - and he knew that he could never get tired of this.

He hung up reluctantly, but he didn't want to waste any more money for either of them.

He wouldn't get the chance to get tired of this, he realized. That report would be turned in tomorrow and he would have no more ways of seeing her. Their lives would be, then, officially detached.

His eyes closed in surrender to the Sandman.

"Good night," he muttered to her, already beginning a dream where he could see her smile vividly.

He hoped tomorrow would not be the last time he'd see her beautiful smile.

If only these Catch-22s had a loophole.