Hopefully I didn't screw this one up too horribly, Ayakichi.
"Hmm..." A certain someone hummed with a dulcet volume as their figure stood outside another's door; their stance being seemingly nonchalant as they stood motionlessly in the corridor of vertical wooden rectangles that led into assorted offices. This one particular person had visited the door they were in front of now about ten different, intermittent times during this wonderful day's work hours, and had been hovering in front of the same tangible portal for a span of twenty minutes now, this current sojourn.
Why was the person continuously standing outside this specific door and not even knocking or doing anything, you may be pondering.
Well, this one person was nervous, and was dubious about their ability to do what they were intending to do. They wanted to walk inside the office who belonged to the person they adored, and ask out the person inhabiting the room. They wanted to be able to outwardly love their coworker, but of course, wanting something wasn't always a ticket to getting it. The spineless person's courage and willingness to risk many things, including a golden friendship, was quickly deteriorating the more they stood at the door that led to the love of their life, yet- they just couldn't stop stepping over to the closed room and raising a fist to nearly knock; nearly being the key word.
However... The desire to be able to this was also very powering...
Music slyly seeped through the edges of the wooden door mocking him; the continuous flows of heavenly notes and lyrics hitting his ears with a blaring effect. The deliberate chromatic tones of the song playing from within the office tugged at each other's soundwaves, and wriggled in the person who stood outside's hearing devices, as they continued to be a frozen human; their right hand balled in a fist and hovering in front of the wood cautiously, just like every other time where the person had visited the non-transparent portal.
'Come on... You can do it...' The hope being buried mentally beneath afraid and negative emotions screamed out within his mind, to try to be heard, 'just go in there and do it, Eddie!' When his subconscious advised this, the more positive sentiments bubbled up within his gut, when a newfound courage masked his uncertain self. A determined (yet still unsure) hue shading in the contours of his facial features, the Latino (who was still scared to death) sighed shakily whilst he gained control over his still body once again. Embarrassment was also something to churn within his stomach when the realization of what he had become - a dead statue in front of his friend's office for the umpteenth time today - hit him like a ton of bricks outside the cranium; and boy, did those solid rectangular prisms hurt like hell when applied to the skull.
As his meager amount of willingness to take a risk was slowly growing into a more functional and operational measure in his recuperating state, Eddie's line of sight leisurely trailed over the smooth textured wood framed to be a door, and eventually did his gaze rest on his balled up fist that still remained in its same form for who knows how long. At least eight minutes, maybe. The sight of his motionless hand made its owner- die a little on the inside, and it also made his languidly rising excitement fall a couple of notches from its already meager and pitiful status.
Why was this so hard? Was it because he was terrified of rejection?
Was it because he didn't want to lose such a cherished friendship?
