FREE⇡RIDE⇣HOME [Elevator Hitch || COTAG]

Some fresh air won't hurt, I guess

I finish my breakfast and stand up. I stretch my back, and make the bed.

I stand in the corner of the room, find my clothes and undress. The sudden knock on the door startles me.

"I'm changing! Give me a moment, please." I yell.

My coworker releases the doorknob he almost turned. "Gah! I'm sorry," he squeals. "I didn't give you anything to drink. Would you like some tea?"

"Eh, sure! I'll be there soon." I brush the embarrassed feeling of almost being seen half-naked  by my coworker off. He didn't see me half-naked, so why am I worrying in the first place? Besides, I wasn't naked naked, I was half-naked. Ah, nevermind... thinking about being almost seen half-naked is only making me feel more embarrassed.

I come to the kitchen shortly after, and sit down, by myself. For a jiffy, I feel nauseous about how at home I feel at my coworker's place. He puts a cup of tea in front of my face, and smiles warmly.

I smile back and take a sip... nearly burning my lip off. "Ooh, hot..." The shock in my nerves makes me giggle.

"Ehh, does it hurt?" My coworker cups my cheeks and turns my face to himself, to see any possible burns on my lips better.

"Y-You said saliva h-helps healing..." He stares away from me with his eyes open wide.

I chuckle and hold his hands, that are on my face. "It doesn't work on burns. Besides, I don't have a burn. It's alright."

...Wait.

No, it can't be. Nevermind.

He takes his arms away and sits across from me. He clasps his hands together, and sighs heavily, drooping his head down.

"Do you want me to... drive you home today, or... ehh..."

"I don't know. I do have a slight headache, but I can stay for a while, if you'd like me to," I assure.

"Is it because of the pills?"

"Likely, but I slept well, nonetheless. Your..." I stutter, "your b... I slept well."

I want to say something along the lines of 'your bed did wonders' or 'your hugs,' but I figure that it sounds a little weird, and give up in the end.

I take a sip from my now-warm tea. It's still steaming, and I hold it against my face long enough for it to fog my lenses. I take my glasses off and put them aside.

"You can see without glasses?" he asks.

"No... well... yes, I can see, but it's blurry." I stare at his face.

He laughs. "You're cross-eyed..."

I freeze.

It's about time I look away from him.

"I... sorry, did I upset you? I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean to..!" He seizes my arms over the table, and shakes me, faintly.

"It's alright."

"No, seriously... I didn't mean it as an insult..! I-I think it's really cute..."

"It's alright, okay? I know it looks silly. You don't have to sugarcoat it." I grit my teeth.

"I'm dead serious."

I cover my eyes with my hand. "Thanks, but... I'm still insecure about it. Don't mention it anymore."

He mimics zipping his mouth shut.

I squint my eyes when I look at him. I maintain eye contact, as I slurp my tea, loudly.

He thinks I'm cute? Or is it just my eyes that he likes so much? He described them so charmingly last night, and always stares into them. Does he like their shape, or my eyeballs alone?

I put my glasses back on, after I finish my cup of tea.

...Now. He's staring at them, right now. He's resting his head in his hand, and staring straight into my eyes.

I fix my glasses in a way that lets him know that I'm aware of it.

He jumps up, and embarrassingly rubs the back of his head. "S-Sorry, my bad..."

"You like my eyes?" I ask.

"Uuhu, yeah. They're gorgeous," he replies, calmly.

My cheeks redden. I'm not sure what to respond with, so I hold the empty cup, looking for comfort.

"But... that's not everything." The farther he's into that sentence, the quieter he speaks. "Everything about you..." he mutters, and I can't hear what he says next. I refuse to ask.

He stands up. "I'm going to go for a smoke. Are you coming with me?"

"To the balcony? ...No, thanks."

"No, we can go downstairs, if you'd like."

I rub my forehead with my fingers. "Some fresh air won't hurt, I guess." I stand up and brush against his arm. "But you shouldn't smoke, either," I whisper, referring to when he told me to stop taking sleeping pills.

We take the elevator to the ground floor. My coworker walks out first, and lights a cigarette, puffing on it with his back turned towards me. I sigh.

"You don't smoke, do you?" He asks. "I wonder what you did to that cigarette I gave you..." Smoke is running out of his mouth.

"It's still in my drawer."

He titters. "Really? You didn't throw it out yet?"

I, personally, have no idea why I didn't throw it out. I guess it's because it's a gift... kind of. "I didn't."

He sucks on his cigarette again. "I was meaning to ask you something..."

"What is it?"

He pauses. For a while. He's likely getting ready to say what he wants to say.

"What were your previous partners like?"

I cross my arms. "Partners? As in... romantic partners?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I didn't have any of those."

He seems surprised. "Seriously? But..."

I wait for him to finish his sentence, but he doesn't. "Besides that one girl in secondary school who thought I was smart, no, I didn't have any real partners."

"Eh..? How come you didn't have any?"

I laugh, but it's a natural reaction to embarrassment. "It's because I act like a grumpy old man, maybe. Only elderly ladies like me, for that matter."

"You're quite lively, though."

I jerk. "I get tired quickly."

He drops his cigarette and puts it out with a stomp. "I don't see how that's a problem."

"I'm also not really entertaining or anything. Pretty much an empty shell..."

"I... don't see how that's true."

✂