It's been a week since I had a moment with Thomas. He has been on his trip since then, and we haven't kept in touch. He should be returning to work today, and somehow I'm excited to see him.
I get to work early, and he's already there, sipping coffee over the windows. I wonder what he's thinking. I'm always wondering what's going on in his head—a person so brilliant yet a closed book with a beautiful cover.
"Morning!" I try to sound as cheerful as possible.
"Oh, morning." He glances at me and back at the window.
"What are you doing here this early?" I put my things down and stood by his side.
"I'm always early. I like the quiet before the work chaos starts." He's doing that again. Looking over at something distant as if he's thinking about something so unimaginable, so unattainable.
"I see." I try to stare into whatever he is looking at.
"How about you? Did the sun rise from the West today?" He looks back at me as if snapping out of his thoughts.
"I knew I shouldn't have taught you that phrase."
"Haha, what are you doing here this early?"
"I need to prepare for the presentation we have this afternoon. I'm kind of nervous about it."
"Don't worry. You'll be fine."
"Easy for you to say. You're a smooth talker."
"Experience, my love. Experience. You're getting there."
"Sure, sure. I need coffee."
"Try this. I put in a special ingredient here." He hands me his mug.
"How could you make a coffee special? It's just coffee."
"Tsk, just try."
I take a sip of the coffee, and it tastes incredible. It's sweet but not too much, and it has a perfect coffee taste, but it's not too bitter.
"Bro, this is amazing."
"I'm not your 'bro,' I'm your boss. And yes, I know. I told you." He has that smug smile.
"Okay, boss. Please make me one of these again." I try to tease him a little.
"Come in early tomorrow, too, and I'll think about it." He gestures with his hands, asking for the mug back.
"No, I'm keeping this. Make another one for yourself."
"Hey, I told you to take a sip, not have it all."
"Nope." I turn around and try to drink the coffee fast, burning my tongue. I spat the coffee on the ground. "Fuck I burned my mouth."
"This is what happens when a grown adult acts childish." He goes to the fridge and grabs some ice.
"Show me." He grabs my chin softly and dabs my lips with ice. I look at him, his concerned eyes, and it confuses me. "Does it hurt?" I shake my head no. "Good."
He looks at me, and the realisation hits him. His one hand on my chin, the other dabbing my lips with ice. I expected him to pull away, but his gaze softens as he looks into my eyes, so I try to look away, but I can't. Somehow, his grip on my chin became a caress on my cheek, and he's not dabbing the ice anymore. The ice is melting on my lips, water running through my chin into my shirt. But we're both still and silent, and the magnetic sensation between my lips and his is intense. I want to kiss him, but I hesitate. If he goes for it right now, I might let him.
Suddenly, we hear a beeping sound coming from the front door and immediately retreat. He hands me the ice and gestures that I should put it on my tongue. I take it and walk away as other employees enter. We're both flushed with what happened there and ignored each other the whole day.
My presentation was done, and I sat in my cubicle, exhausted and relieved that it was over. The back of my neck hurt because I'd been working extra hard to make this presentation work. It's like once the task is over, your body knows it's time to feel the consequences of overworking.
I overhear Thomas speaking to one of the employees on the other side. He's either scolding her or just talking to her. He's not a nice person to new employees. I know better. He gave me hell when he was mentoring me. He softened over time and became more friendly but was still harsh on me, now that I think about it.
"Ivy, what's with your neck?" He stops by my cubicle on his way back to his office.
"Oh, this? Nothing. Just stress, I think. I worked on the presentation all night, so it's been stiff." I try to snap my neck.
"Let me see."
"N-no it's oka-" He slides my hair across my shoulder and presses his fingers at the stress point. "Ohh that feels good."
"Your shoulders are really stiff."
"I know, maybe I've just been working a lot."
He massages my shoulders for a minute; all I do is count the seconds of bliss. His soft and slow breath against the back of my neck, and I can't help but blush. So, I stopped him.
"That's it. I think it's all done now." I pull away from him and circle my shoulders.
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Look at me." I look like a fool. My face is as red as a tomato, and he chuckles.
"Okay, I got it. You're good." He gives me a look of disbelief.
"Yeah." I look down and slide my chair back to my desk, hoping he will walk away. He stood behind me for a while, hesitating, but eventually walked away.
I saw my phone ringing again—a call from Nir. I didn't want to pick up, but I do anyway.
"Hello."
"Hey, Ivy. What's up? Why aren't you answering my calls?"
"What do you want, Nir? I don't think we're friends enough to be calling each other."
"Don't be so cold. I just wanted to see you."
"Well, I don't. So, can you please stop calling?"
I look at the faded cigarette burn scar on my wrist, and it floods back unpleasant memories of him. I cannot hear one more word from him, so I hang up. The voice in my head is so loud it's overwhelming. I can feel anxiety crawling over my insides, making them cold and restless.
I press on my scar, hoping the pain would wake me up, but it doesn't. The feeling, the hurt, it's suffocating, and I cannot breathe. My eyes are tearing up, and my hands are shaking, and all I want to do is wail, but I can't. I'm at work and I have to hold it together.
I beg myself to stop panicking. I try to talk to my mind to stop breaking me more than I have to. But the images in my head won't go away. Please, please, please stop. I cannot bear it anymore. I put my head down at my desk, my legs shaking and hands pressing the scar so hard it could bleed anytime.
I feel a pat on my shoulder and it startles me. It's Thomas again. It couldn't get any worse than it already is. I look at him with panic in my eyes, and he's concerned again. He asks me nothing, looks at my quiet, panicked state and hugs me tight, patting the back of my head.
I'm worried someone might see us and misinterpret things, but it's almost 7 pm and everyone's gone home already. My face is buried in his stomach, and I can smell the soft scent of his cardigan. It smells like lavender. I let my wrist go loose and hug him back. I start sobbing because of how warm he feels and how cold it is inside my head. He kneels and separates himself from me.
He cups my face and wipes my tears with concerned eyes again and asks in the softest voice I've ever heard from him, "What happened? Did someone hurt you? Is the work too overwhelming? Do you want to take a break?"
I say nothing. I just shake my head no as I tear up. But he's confused and keeps asking me if I'm okay. I can hear him, but all I can do is cry as he keeps wiping my tears. He tries standing up to grab some tissues, but I grab the sides of his cardigan and beg him to stay without a word.
He finally gives up questioning and says, "Okay, it's okay. You're here with me now. Okay? I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. Just breathe, okay? You're scaring me."
I nod my head and take long huffs of breath. He keeps encouraging me to take long breaths and takes some with me. I stop crying, and my heart feels a bit lighter after all the crying.
"Come on. Get up. Let's get some fresh air." He holds my hand and helps me get up. He keeps holding my hand as he takes me to the rooftop. I look down as I walk because once I got back to my senses, I realised the embarrassment. How could I cry in front of my crush/boss? Fuck. But he's holding my hand so tight that everything else disappears from my mind.
He opens the door, and a gust of cool winter breeze falls on my face. Thomas pulls me towards the edge, and we can see all of Kathmandu from there; it's mesmerising. He's still holding my hand as we look at the view in complete silence, as if he and I are the only people that exist. As if the moon is the witness of our becoming, and the city lights are calling out our names. In this moment, I want the time to stop and never start again. I'm not ready to go back to reality.
"Feel better?" He looks at me, concern still lingering in his deep blue eyes.
"Yes. Thank you for that." I smile at him.
"It's fine. Show me your wrist. You've been pressing it so hard, I was worried you might cut it with your nails alone." He takes my other hand, and I let him. He sees the cigarette burn scar covered with my nail cut, and I can feel questions coming at me. Surprisingly, he says nothing and just brushes the scar with his thumb for a while.
"I was in a very complicated relationship before I went to New York, so I'd turned to self-harm. It's from that."
"I see." He just looks at the scar and keeps grazing it as if he would heal it right here, right now.
"It's okay. You don't have to do that." I try to brush his hands off mine.
"I know. I know." His grip gets tighter and his caress gentler.
We're both silent, and I look at the beautiful city lights of Kathmandu. He has both my hands on his, and the only thing missing is a kiss. It'd be ridiculous to ask for a kiss right now, so I look away and separate our hands as if separating our souls. But he gently pulls me back and tucks my hair behind my ears without breaking eye contact.
"You're safe now. I don't know what happened to you, but I'm here for you. Always. Okay?" I need him to stop looking at me that way and saying things that would give me the wrong idea.
"Yes, thank you." I nod. And when I look at him, I see pity in his eyes. The type of kindness that makes me feel pathetic and nauseous. The type that makes me want to jump off this building and scream till I land and all that's left of me is shattered completely.
But I just keep nodding till the breeze becomes colder and my face feels calmer. I lean in and rest my head against his chest and feel the rhythm of his heart on my forehead. It's like the type of music that helps you sleep and dream about heaven. He hugs me like a promise of peace and I let go of all that I am. In this silence, it's just him and me.