Erkenci Kuş: Broken Promises

Part 6: Can

Song: Disclosure's Latch (Sam Smith's acoustic cover)

You lift my heart up when the rest of me is down
You, you enchant me even when you're not around
If there are boundaries, I will try to knock them down
I'm latching on, babe, now I know what I have found

I feel we're close enough
Could I lock in your love?
I feel we're close enough
Could I lock in your love?

Now I've got you in my space
I won't let go of you
Got you shackled in my embrace
I'm latching on to you

I'm so en-captured, got me wrapped up in your touch
Feel so enamoured, hold me tight within your clutch
How do you do it? You got me losing every breath
What did you give me to make my heart beat out my chest?

I feel we're close enough
Could I lock in your love?
I feel we're close enough
Could I lock in your love?

Now I've got you in my space
I won't let go of you
Got you shackled in my embrace
I'm latching on to you

Now I've got you in my space
I won't let go of you
Got you shackled in my embrace
I'm latching on to you

I'm latching on to you

*********************************************

Can sighed, rolled his eyes, rubbing his temples for the umpteenth time, yet he couldn't shift the headache that had taken up residence rent-free in his head. Counting down from ten, he waited. Exactly on the count of one, Hurricane Deren swept into his office.

"CAAAAN!" She screeched, her arms flapping like the blades of an oscillating fan. "How can you just sit there? You're the head of the company and the creative team." Her eyes, lined with thick kohl, almost popped out of their sockets.

"Sakin ol, Deren, and tell me what the matter is, this time."

"What's the matter?" Her voice climbed a few decibels higher, her eyebrows rising just as high. Can thought if it went any higher, he would have to duck from shattering glass. "None of these dimwits have come up with a slogan for the Compass Sport campaign. Tomorrow's the deadline, and you know we really need this account."

Deren was on the warpath. All morning, he'd been fielding complaints from the staff. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he stood and walked around his desk. Putting an arm around her shoulder, he walked her towards the door. "Why don't you gather the team to the conference room? I'll join you in a minute and we can all work on it together." His low tones seemed to soothe her as she nodded wordlessly and strutted out, shutting the door behind her.

Blowing out a breath, he leaned his forehead against the glass door and rubbed the back of his head. Instinctively, as he had done the last three days, Can craned his neck towards the bullpen, his eyes scanning back and forth. But she wasn't there. Sorrow gnawed at his heart.

Nothing had seemed right since that night on the rocks. After her declaration of love, she'd fled into the night, vanishing like an apparition. Immobilised to the spot, he'd sat there mulling over her words and all they'd been through. Hours later, roused by the burning rays of the sun, he'd woken up stiff and sore, having fallen asleep right there on the rocks. He'd headed home to a hot shower, then to the agency where nothing had seemed right.

True to her word, she hadn't turned up the next day, the day after, nor today. It had only been a few months since Sanem had started working at Fikri Harika, yet it seemed like years as she had left an indelible footprint everywhere. Her absence conspicuous by the yawning void it left in its wake.

The office lacked a certain je ne sais quoi and seemed duller for her absence. Gone was the regular congregating of staff at the tea and coffee station as they listened to Guliz regale them with the latest bit of juicy gossip. Even Ceycey was uncharacteristically subdued and quiet as he moped around the office, mumbling about returning to the land of his birth. When he brought Can his çay, he would flit in and out like a spectre. And he wouldn't make eye contact. Well, neither would Can, too afraid of the censure he was sure to find in Sanem's chief cheerleader's eyes. Any attempt on Can's part to make polite conversation with him fell flatter than a pancake. After a while, Can stopped trying.