The Exquisite Pain

chapter two.

You are many things. An 'empath', a Creative Director for a prestigious design firm, an illustrator, a designer, a daughter, a sister, an aunt. And now you could add "chickenshit" to that list. You were a little chickenshit! You were actively avoiding him, not that it seemed like he was chasing you though. He hadn't called or texted you after his proposition, and that was a week ago to the day. Even so, you took a different route home, even going so far as to drive on the days you knew he would most likely be waiting at the bench. 

You were confused.

He likes you. He definitely likes you - both as a human being and as a woman. But he couldn't do a relationship. Why? He didn't want to lose your friendship - going so far as to lose his composure when you suggested ending it. Why? He wanted all the benefits of being more than a friend, without actively participating. Why? 

Even more than that, the questions you kept asking yourself left you emotionally drained. Why were you even entertaining the prospect? Yes, you like him... and it was teetering dangerously on the line of being more than like. But why would you accept less than you are worth for the sake of feeling the thrill that was Gojo Satoru? 

Shaking your head at your desk, you saw the paper under your hand filled with doodles. His eyes were staring back at you from various angles and each pair held a different emotion - humour, tenderness, exhaustion, anger, regret, and the pair in the middle hunger. Those were the eyes you kept dreaming of, the eyes that looked like they would devour you if you let them. And God, you wanted them to. But you knew... if this was going to happen, you'd never want him to stop devouring you. You'd give him everything. And you'd get nothing but those small moments in return. It would never be enough. Slamming your notebook shut as your secretary walked in, she raised an eyebrow and shut the door behind her. It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. Melanie rarely closed your door unless there was some ridiculous gossip or an NDA involved.

"What's up Mel?" you asked, genuinely interested. It was moments like these that made being an empath an unfair advantage. You could place her emotions and pick out individual words or 'essences' that would give you an answer. But you hated doing it to Mel. She was wholesome, honest and kind - so 'intruding' on her didn't sit right with you.

"You've been spacing out for a week - ever since that day you took off. I think I should be asking you 'what's up', not the other way around." she said with a worry frown puckering her face.

"It's noth-"

"And before you say, 'it's nothing', please realise that I know when you are clearly lying or in need of a sounding board or advice. And from the look on your face on any given free moment of the day for the last week, you need to talk. So talk." out of breath, she sat back in the chair opposite from you.

"It's Gojo." you groaned and put your head in your hands.

"That friend of yours that takes you for drinks?" 

"That's the one." you reply with a sigh.

"Well? What happened?" she asked, prompting you gently.

"He kissed me."

Gasping and clapping her hands, she exclaimed "I knew he liked you!"

Laughing without humour you reply. "Not enough to want more."

"He doesn't want to date you?" she asked.

"No. He wants to stay friends, but friends that kiss. 'Friends with benefits' essentially."

"Okay. And you don't want that?" she asked, trying to understand.

"I don't know." you reply honestly.