Mister Blurry Face

Chapter 5: Dreams And Questions

The next morning unfolds with a sense of disquiet lingering in the air. Despite my attempts to shake off the events of the previous evening, the memory of the dream and the encounter with the new boss weighs heavily on my mind.

As I sit at my desk, sipping on a cup of lukewarm coffee, my thoughts drift back to the conversation we had—or rather, the questions he asked. Why was he so interested in my dreams? And what did he mean by not being able to disclose everything?

Lost in my musings, I barely notice when my assistant approaches, a hesitant expression on her face.

"Layla, are you alright?" she asks, her voice tinged with concern.

I startle slightly, pulling myself back to the present. "Yes, I'm fine. Just lost in thought," I reply with a forced smile.

She nods, but her expression remains troubled. "I couldn't help but notice that you seemed... unsettled yesterday evening," she says carefully. "Is everything okay?"

I hesitate, unsure of how much to reveal. But something about her genuine concern compels me to confide in her, if only a little.

"It's just... I had a strange dream last night," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "And then the new boss—he asked me about it."

Her eyes widen in surprise. "He did? That's... odd," she says, clearly taken aback.

I nod, a frown creasing my brow. "Tell me about it," I mutter under my breath.

Before she can respond, a commotion at the entrance of the office draws our attention. I glance up to see the new boss striding purposefully towards us, his expression unreadable.

"Miss Anderson, can I have a word with you?" he asks, his voice calm but authoritative.

I exchange a wary glance with my assistant before nodding slowly. "Of course, sir. What do you need?"

He gestures towards his office, and I follow him inside, feeling a knot of apprehension form in the pit of my stomach.

As the door closes behind us, he turns to face me, his gaze penetrating.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday evening," he begins, his tone surprisingly sincere. "I realize that I may have come across as... harsh."

I blink in surprise, taken aback by his unexpected apology. "Um, it's alright," I stammer, unsure of how to respond.

He nods, his expression softening slightly. "Good. I'm glad we cleared that up," he says, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

I can't help but feel a surge of relief wash over me. Perhaps he isn't as intimidating as I thought.

"Is there anything else, sir?" I ask, eager to put the awkwardness behind us.

He hesitates for a moment, as if debating whether or not to say something. Then, with a sigh, he nods.

"Yes, there is," he says, his voice low. "I need to ask you about your dreams."

My heart skips a beat at his words, and a chill runs down my spine. How could he possibly know about my dreams?

"I... I'm not sure what you mean," I stammer, my mind racing.

He fixes me with a steady gaze, his eyes boring into mine. "You know exactly what I mean, Layla," he says quietly. "And I need to know everything."

I swallow hard, trying to calm the sudden surge of panic rising within me. "I... I don't know what you're talking about," I lie, my voice barely audible.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced by my response. "You can't hide it from me, Layla. I know you've been dreaming about me."

The blood drains from my face as his words sink in. How could he possibly know?

"I... I don't understand, I most surely have not have been dreaming about you?" I stammer, my mind reeling.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Look, Layla- I-, never mind. That it thank you."

"I don't... I don't understand," I whisper to my self walking away, feeling more confused than ever. Where was he going with it, I don't get what just happened. I shake it of and continue further with my work for the day