desertion

152

LYDIA

The office felt unusually heavy today. Not physically, of course, but emotionally. Mason had been sitting at his desk for hours, hunched over, his head resting in his hands like he was carrying the weight of the world. His usual sarcastic quips and sharp focus were gone, replaced by this quiet storm brewing around him.

And I hated seeing him like this.

I leaned back in my chair, spinning a pen in my fingers as I watched him out of the corner of my eye. It wasn't like Mason to be this quiet. Sure, he wasn't a loud person by any means, but there was always this subtle spark in him, this quiet intensity that made him, well... him.

But today? That spark was nowhere to be found.

I couldn't take it anymore. "Okay, that's it," I said, standing abruptly.

Mason barely glanced up, his eyes dull and tired. "What's it?" he muttered.

"You," I said, crossing the room. "You're moping."

"I'm not moping," he replied, his voice flat.

"Yes, you are," I said, pulling my phone out of my pocket. "And I'm not going to let you sit here and wallow in whatever this is. So, we're doing something about it."

He gave me a look, one of those raised-eyebrow, are-you-serious looks that would usually make me back off. But not today.

"Lydia," he said warningly.

Ignoring him, I scrolled through my playlist until I found the perfect song. A grin spread across my face as I hit play, and the room filled with the upbeat, infectious rhythm of one of my favorite dance tracks.

Mason groaned. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope," I said, already swaying to the beat. "Come on, Mason. Live a little."

He shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he went back to staring at his computer screen.

But I wasn't about to give up that easily.

I started dancing, moving around the room like a complete idiot. I didn't care how ridiculous I looked-it wasn't about me. It was about getting Mason to crack that tough exterior of his and actually smile for once.

"Lydia, stop," he said, his tone sharp.

"Nope!" I replied cheerfully, spinning in a circle.

"Seriously," he snapped, looking up at me with a glare. "You're being annoying."

"Good," I said, stepping closer to his desk. "That means it's working."

He groaned again, rubbing his temples like he was dealing with a particularly stubborn child.

I reached out and grabbed his hand, tugging gently. "Come on, Mason. Just one dance."

"Lydia-"

"Please?" I cut him off, giving him my best puppy-dog eyes.

He stared at me for a long moment, his jaw tight. I could tell he was annoyed, but I wasn't going to back down.

Finally, he sighed. "Fine. One dance."

A triumphant grin spread across my face as I pulled him to his feet. He looked stiff, awkward, and completely out of his element, but he let me guide him to the middle of the room.

I started swaying again, encouraging him to follow my lead. At first, he just stood there, his arms crossed over his chest. But then, slowly-hesitantly-he started moving.

"There you go!" I said, clapping my hands. "See? It's not so bad."

He shot me a look, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

We danced like that for a few minutes, just swaying and moving to the beat. And then, out of nowhere, Mason grabbed my hand and spun me around.

I let out a surprised laugh, almost tripping over my own feet. "Look at you!" I said, grinning up at him.

He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling now-a real, genuine smile that lit up his entire face.

We kept dancing, laughing as we moved around the room like complete fools. At one point, I tripped over his foot and nearly fell, but Mason caught me, his grip gentle yet steady.

And that's when I felt it.

It wasn't the way he caught me, or even the way he looked at me in that moment. It was the way he held me, like I was something fragile and precious. Not with a firm grip, like he was afraid I'd slip away, but with a softness that made my heart ache in the best way.

When the song finally ended, we both collapsed onto the floor, lying side by side as we tried to catch our breath. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and my stomach ached from laughing, but I didn't care.

For the first time in a long time, I felt... happy.

I turned my head to look at Mason, and my breath caught in my throat. He was staring up at the ceiling, his face flushed and his hair slightly messy from all the dancing. And then he laughed-a deep, genuine laugh that sent a warm, fluttery feeling through my chest.

God, his laugh.

It was like a switch flipped inside me. Suddenly, everything felt different. The way I looked at him, the way I felt about him-it all shifted in that moment.

Mason wasn't just my friend or my work partner anymore. He was something more.

But it was too soon.

I'd just gotten out of a long-term relationship, and the last thing I needed was to dive headfirst into something new.

And yet, as I lay there next to him, listening to his laugh and feeling the warmth of his presence, I couldn't help but think... maybe Mason was different.

Maybe he was exactly what I needed.