When Bexley's editor Eva Mellon tries to dig up secrets on an impromptu 'Office Romeo', whose oblivious 'Juliet' stands in the way of 'her forever' with fellow colleague Josh, she finds herself eerily attracted to the no-nonsense, intimidating (but...
I turn around to the cityscape sightseeing, ignoring him. I fucking didn't care what he was doing. He can fuck off, his whole damn staff at Bexley's can fuck off, and that bitch Amanda. They can all fuck off. I couldn't care less.
"Why is it that every time I think we are gonna be okay, you are moping around some guy!" Will said as he turned towards me, and I pretended not to hear any of it.
"Are you even listening?" He nudged me in the elbow.
Pay no attention. Just count to ten. One...two...three. Fuck off, Will...four...five...six. Fuck off, Will. seven...eight...nine.Fuck off, Will...ten.
"Fuck off, Will!" There, I said it.
My heart pounded in my chest. I said it, and there's no remorse. Will's eyes grew wide, and then his face dropped down. No, I am not going to fall for that again. He does that all the damn time. He acted like a pathetic, judgmental psychopath when I needed him! Now he expects me to sugarcoat his shitty behavior. What else could I expect from a high and mighty,oh-so-rich man? Huh!
"Are you okay?" He whispered in a freakingly low voice, the kind that made me want to pine and die under sheets as I cried my eyeballs out.
"You know you can stop pretending like you care because I am using the last of my willpower to not cuss-the-hell-of- you out. I have a job to keep." Fuck, fuck, fuck. I needed to stay almost fifteen inches away from him, or I will cry.
"I am not pretending. I do fucking care about you!" He said as he moved further as if the bare minimum distance between us was nothing but half an inch! I can feel his warm breath touching my cold cheeks. The wind brushed off his honey-toned locks, and his eyes were painfully sympathetic. I don't want his damn sympathy.
"If you cared, you would have listened! And since you didn't, there's no way I will believe a word you say." I said, my eyes brimming with tears. But how long could I hold them back?
"Believe it or not, I do." He said with stoic arrogance as his fingers caressed my cheek, and I could feel the sting from earlier returning.
"Ouch. Don't fucking touch me!" I slapped his arm away, moving backward till there was no room for me to walk. He followed right after, so we faced each other, and I stayed pinned between him and the damn wall.
No, no! Someone, please get him away from here. I mumbled a silent prayer.
"How can I not! You look like a ghost. Rachel told me everything." He barked, and tears fell. Now I was a sobbing mess. Just incredible!
"You were dead ass mad over seeing Josh with me in the janitor's closet, and what about your HR Head, who assaulted me in public? If you don't see already,let me say it to your face! Change your fucking rules if you wanna show people you care!" I seethed with agony.
"Amanda's suspended for a week for acting rashly with a co-worker. Bexley's is not a war ground. It's a damned place of love! Love for art, for people, for everyone." He said on a soothing note. I never heard him this calm, but whatever he was trying to do, he wasn't going to get that. I would make sure that he won't.
"Well, well, Mr. Turner! Your place of love is a fucking tumor breeding, sickly dumpster of fucked people where I am but another addition!" I knew. I overstepped the line.
"Enough is enough, Eva! If you say a word further about Bexley's, I am afraid I have to fire you!" He said.
"Well, go on. Do it right away! Will Turner, you are just a talkie-talkie, talk show. You said we were friends, and then you didn't even care to listen to me. You said you were always there for me, and then you weren't, and now you dare say you will fire me, go on! Do that!" I said and slumped to the ground.
My bottom landed flat against the tile, and I curled up, hugging my knees. Will needs to go! I could not stand him further. Where are all the smokers when you need them the most? Not even one.
I could feel the wet floor soaking my clothes. If the apocalypse were to happen, now would be a great time. I always pictured myself oblivious when the world would end up with balls of fire blasting from all directions. I knew that if the apocalypse were to happen, all I had to do was recreate the pain at this moment, whimper, and die from all the grief before I was weak in my bones. That was the 'precise amount of pain' I needed to think death was a happy place. For some reason, I believe the purpose of life was to make us all believe that after worse, there's death. And maybe, after death, there's worse. It made sense. Everything felt like hell.
"I wish I never woke up from the coma," I whispered and closed my eyes, trying to think of one happy thought.
I was no longer cold. I felt the warmth, and then there's this feeling. It's called home. I was safe, I sensed it in the embrace, and the tears don't come now. My inside turned into a soft piece of molding clay, waiting to get made into something better but my outside stayed stiff, too tired to move.
"I am sorry." Will buried his face in my hair, and his fingers are moved across my back. He had wrapped me up with him. We were tangled together, the bluish-grey sky stared down on us, and I could see it; the silver lining. It's there, but I was too tired to point it out. So tired that I let myself melt. I let myself be. That's the best you can do when you feel like you are your worst enemy- Let yourself be. Don't fight it.
"I told him not to...I told Josh I didn't want to fuck him, and I stormed out, crying, and when I did, I thought of you." I blabbered, my tears all dry, my eyes stinging, and my body warm.
He said nothing. His fingers moved across my back, caressing me in his embrace, making a home for more of me, for all of me.
"I wanted to tell you that I don't want him...but you never listen to me. You have no ears for me." I said, and then there was just silence and sobs.
He sobbed as he broke, and I tugged on him hard. Maybe, it would help him a little to know he wasn't alone in this. Turning, I put my arms around him so his eyes could tell me everything he wasn't. Tears dripped down from the always fierce, grey reservoirs, and I only wanted to stop them. What was this feeling? Why was my heart aching a lot for him when I am the one who's shattered?
I leaned in all the way and let my lips brush slightly against his. As if it was enough to tell him what I needed, his lips pressed against mine ferociously, so needy and primal. His eyes opened up, and for a long while, the eerie resemblance of my fears in them made me quiver a little. We both were needy, seeking assurance that we were fine, and the only way we could tell it was by our lips. No words. Just a bit of warmth exchanged in our muffled breaths.
The air I breathed out was the air he breathed in, more than enough to tell him that I was as much hurting as he was in all the places we bruised. I let myself kiss him back. Our foreheads touched. I put my tongue in, his own clashing against mine almost in a waltz, our palates the ballroom and the passion our Mozart! We both break the ordeal, reaching for air to fill our lungs.
"I need to go," Will said when a part of us regained its senses from the emotional funk we were carrying, parcel and parts.
"Don't..." I said, begging. I didn't want to be left alone. Who'll tell me that this was real?
"Go home and wait for me, Eva...I will come back soon. I always will. Believe me." He said, getting up and moving towards the elevator. A solitary tear slid across my cheek, and a part of his words felt like a promise.
So I stood up and got on the streets. I walked till I reached home, waiting for him to come to me any moment. It was the first time Will and I kissed like we weren't Neanderthals. None of it was hollow.
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