Kiralik Ask / Love for Rent - One Shots

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Let's add this scene to the thousands of missed opportunities from the early scenes that annoyed me. Like genuinely, before the showcase in the kitchen, if Omer had just come out with it, they'd have understood one another an episode earlier. 

When he entered the kitchen, Defne was turned away from him, and he drank her in. He couldn't understand how they had gotten here so fast, their last two weeks had gone so quickly and he hadn't found the words to say to her, to make her understand what this was doing to him. 

"Defne?"

She sniffled, turned slightly and smiled. "Good morning, Sir." He watched as she took a breath, preparing the breakfast. 

Saddened, he fingered the counter. "So this is our last breakfast huh?"

Nodding, she forced a small smile. "Yes, last one." Turning to the fridge, she pulled it open. "I'll go through the changes in your programme for you. Miss Yasemin has asked to use your car before the showcase, she's left a message for you to call her." She grabbed a couple of bowls of olives from the fridge and turned to place them on his tray. "A digital magazine wants an interview with you before the show, they're waiting for our response."

He couldn't take it, this was his last chance to make her understand. To beg her to stay. He couldn't let this be the end, the thought of never seeing her again, it was making him feel sick. He'd never felt this way about anyone before, had never had such a strength of feeling before, where it felt as though his world might end if he couldn't see her smile at him anymore. 

Courage suddenly welled within him and he reached out, grasping her wrist in his hand, turning her to face him. "Defne..." Staring at her, his jaw worked to speak words that wouldn't come. Her beautiful eyes looked so sad, so lost as she looked up at him. His moment of courage failed him though, and disappointed he looked away. "I can finish up here. You can wait in the car."

Wordlessly, she walked past him, collecting her bags as Omer leaned against the counter, trying to maintain control over his turbulent emotions.

He heard the click of her heels on the wooden floor and the snick of the door as it opened. With a scowl, he leaned back, hand arcing and swiping the breakfast tray and all of the contents from the counter, sending them crashing against the fridge and the floor. "Fuck!" Leaning back against the counter, he inhaled a shuddery breath.

The hurried click of Defne's heels made him look up towards the sound, her concerned eyes wide, mouth agape as she stared at him. "Sir? What's going on?" Her bags fell to the floor, next to her feet. 

Desperate eyes met hers, and Omer shook his head, pained and frustrated. "Why are you doing this to me, Defne? Why?"

"Excuse me?"

Turning, he faced her. Eyes full of longing and hurt. "Is it because of something I've done? Was it something I did? Did I hurt you? Has my attention made you uncomfortable?"

"No!" She was quick to deny his claims, the confusion in her eyes clear. "Sir, I..."

"My feelings for you have made you uncomfortable to the point that you're leaving, right? That's it?  Because I've gone over it a thousand times in my head and it's the only explanation that makes sense to me, why would you leave otherwise? Defne, I can work through..."

"Hold on a minute, wait,  stop." She held up a hand, eyes wide, dancing nervously as she looked at him, confused. "What did you say? What feelings?"

Huffing out a frustrated breath, Omer grasped the edge of the counter with both hands, head bowed, shoulders slumped. "Don't do that, Defne... don't pretend you don't..."