Under the Sky

Tears

Zeff

The morning air was crisp as I made my way to the office, a sense of unease settling in my chest. As I stepped into the building and headed towards my desk, I noticed a few colleagues exchanging glances and whispering among themselves. Something felt off, and it didn't take long to see why.

Liliam walked in a few minutes later, her eyes puffy and red from crying. Her usual composed demeanor was replaced with a fragile, vulnerable look that made my heart ache. She kept her head down, avoiding eye contact with everyone as she made her way to her desk.

I couldn't stand seeing her like this. I stood up and walked over to her, concern etched on my face. "Liliam," I said softly, trying to catch her attention without startling her. "What happened?"

She looked up at me, and for a moment, it seemed like she might brush me off. But then her expression crumbled, and tears welled up in her eyes again. She glanced around the office, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of breaking down in front of everyone.

She shook her head and turned back to her desk, taking a deep, shaky breath. But I could sense the tremor of her emotions in the slight quiver of her skin, and I could smell the salt of her unshed tears. It was like a punch to the gut, feeling her pain so acutely.

I reached out and took hold of her wrist, pulling her gently to follow me. She didn't resist, allowing me to guide her down the hallway to a small, rarely used conference room. Once inside, I closed the door softly behind us, creating a small bubble of privacy away from the prying eyes and ears of the office.

She looked so fragile, her hands trembling as they balled into fists, trying to hold back the flood of emotions. Her breath hitched, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. I couldn't stand to see her like this.

Without a second thought, I crossed the small room in two strides and pulled her into a strong embrace. At first, she tensed in my arms, but then she melted into me, her body trembling as she finally let go. Her face buried into my chest, and the sobs that she had been holding back came rushing out in a torrent of pent-up emotion.

I held her tighter, feeling the heat of her body seep through my shirt. It was the first time I'd held her this close, and I was struck by how perfectly she fit against me, like she belonged there. Her sobs grew louder, her body shaking against mine, her weak hands clutching desperately at my shirt on either side.

"I'm sorry," she whispered between her sobs, her voice barely audible, muffled against my chest.

"It's okay," I murmured softly, my hand stroking her hair in a soothing rhythm. "You needed a shoulder to cry on."

I could feel her tears soaking through my shirt, each drop like a dagger to my heart. Her pain was my pain, her sorrow my own. All I wanted in that moment was to take it all away, to make her smile again. To see her eyes light up with that spark of joy I had grown to love.

She didn't need to apologize, not to me. She was carrying so much on her shoulders, far more than she should have to bear alone. And if I could be there to help carry even a fraction of that burden, I would do it without hesitation.

"Do you need me to punch him?" I asked, trying to lighten the moment, and I heard her laugh weakly. It was a sound that made my chest feel lighter, even if just for a second. She shook her head, her hair brushing against my chin.

Her warmth seeped into me, and I could feel my body melting into her closeness, her scent of blackberries wrapping around my senses like a soft, intoxicating cloud. I didn't want to move. God, I didn't want to let her go. And she didn't move either. Her hands grasped my shirt tighter, almost as if she was afraid I'd pull away.