Rebellion

24. Heart Strings

“Expect to have hope rekindled. Expect your prayers to be answered in wondrous ways. The dry seasons in life do not last. The spring rains will come again.” – Sarah Ban Breathnach.

•••

Tiolu, Tiolu, Tiolu.

That was all that was on his mind, all through the night. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, even for a split second and the notion was quite disturbing. He knew he shouldn’t be nurturing feelings of such nature inwardly, no matter how discrete – he was liable to budging and compromising the trust she had in him, with keeping it in his pants.

It had just been one night, not exactly a night – a couple of hours and yet, his defenses were already overwhelmed by her presence and shattered by thoughts on her alone. He had to get a handle on himself or he ran a great risk of blowing everything to smithereens, if he didn’t proceed with caution.

Keep her out of your head, keep her out of your head.

The words echoed in his head, as he slid out of bed and the alarm in the room buzzed – continuously, almost forcing his hand in toppling it over as his hand hovered scrupulously around its buttons, in a bid to put it off. Realizing that the clock wouldn’t budge, he grunted and proceeded to step out of the room anyway. As he stepped into the hall-way, a familiar yet unfamiliar scent filled up his nostrils and made him grin in anticipation.

Coffee.

She was up already, it would seem. It was either that or the coffee machine in the kitchen, could now make coffee all on its own without human utilization. Wiping the smile off his face, he reminded himself that it was vital to maintain his comport of the previous evening, and not to veer off to vulnerable shores.

But for how long?

What duration would the fog span for, anyway? A couple of days, a couple of weeks, a couple of months? The foreboding did nothing to calm his perplexed state. The longer this went on, the more difficult it would become to remain emotionally detached. He was hoping fervently for their sakes – that it end soon.

“Good morning,” Her high-pitched voice, bristled past him as he walked through the kitchen’s arch-way. The moment their gazes locked, he could feel his defenses dissolving like salt in a soluble solution. Damn! His oversized buttoned-down shirt hung loosely on her body down to her thighs, where she had thrown on a pair of bumpers. Her face was partially buried in her pool of hair, and her smile – quite infectious. The overall image did nothing to calm his raging hormones.

“Good morning,” His reply came out in a husky, dragged monotone and he had to clear his voice before repeating his statement. “Good morning, looks like someone is already getting familiarized with the building.”

“Oh, please. Don’t sound like you’re my over-nice boss at my new place of work.” She rolled her eyes, as she slid a mug of steaming coffee to him on the counter at the center of the room.

“Who is probably going to ask you out later on, and get rejected?” He chuckled, accepting the cup of coffee and nodding in gratitude. “Well in the man’s defense, you’re just too attractive for your own good and he was trying to take a stand at the usual belief of – all beautiful women having boyfriends, when most time they actually don’t. So, you can’t blame him really.”

He could see the color glimmer through her cheeks, but it wasn’t that intense that she had to look away in embarrassment.

“I didn’t actually mean that type of boss,” She threw her head back, in a bid to get her muddled hair out of her face. If only she knew how her current actions impaled his will-power and restraint. “I meant the type who is actually serious, and like thirty years older probably in the age-gap of my dad. Or one who I’m trying to impress because of some external relation, by arriving at the office early and doing the little I can.”