The Color of Blood is Red

Chapter 3

“You must be Cardlin.”

My voice trembled.

“That’s me!” I see what he did there.

Suddenly I was coughing, it didn’t sound psychotic, just sick. That’s it, I’m sick. In more ways than 1, but just sick, with a cold.

“Forgive me, a bit under the weather,” I sigh.

Forcing myself to calm the hell down.

“It's okay. Um, sorry if I’m wrong but, did I bump into you this morning? Literally,” he took a few steps closer to me and if I made 1 wrong move, I would be pressed up against him.

My heart was pounding against my ribs. It was getting really hard to breathe and I really couldn’t see. Not only color but anything in general. Where're my glasses that I dare not wear?

“Ha-ha yeah,” that was close. “You did seem familiar. Sorry, I took off so suddenly I was in a rush.”

“Its no problem at all. Should we get started?”

“Of course.”

I took him for a quick tour around the office, introduced him to his team and what this company entails. Still searching for my glasses whenever I had the chance. I assigned him to his desk (coincidently right behind me) and got back to my duties.

“If you need anything, let me know. I’ll be doing overtime, so if you plan to stay back, we can catch up a bit.” For once, I felt like I was getting my shit together. Then he looked up at me from his desk and gave me the sincerest smile I’ve ever seen.

Green eyes. But so light they look hazel.

I know it. His eyes are green. They are fucking green. Color. I can see his fucking eye color.
There it is, the laughter, beating against my chest. Breath hitching, mind spinning and a searing pain in my head that just wrapped around my whole body.

I felt the blood drain from my skin, I fell forward a bit and catch myself on his desk, my eyes squinting in pain as I grimaced my teeth.

“Katalina, are you okay?”  he sat up from his chair and placed a hand on the arch of my back, through the thin, white material, it burned through my skin.
Get it together Kate, you’re working.

“I’m fine, just a stomach ache.”

He doesn’t believe me.

“Hey, stop looking so worried, you just caught me on an off day, get to work. It's going to be 1 hell of a ride from here.” I smiled and patted his shoulder; his hand was still on my back.

“Ah, okay. You’re right.”

“Of course, I am.” I grinned and slipped from under his burning touch and made my way to the desk behind him.

The glasses. Found them. Right near my laptop, pretty sure that wasn’t there before, then again, I don’t know if I trust myself with anything anymore.
The longer I sat next to my desk, drawing lines, constructing designs and creating logos, the better I felt.
Doing what I love. Art. I may be color blind, but it never stopped me from getting out of bed so why would it stop me from doing what I love? 

The hours flew like seconds, and 1 by 1 the office was empty. Well, not totally empty. He’s still here. Still, behind me, I can hear the pencil sketching, the eraser on the paper, his sharp breaths when he messes up and the clicking of the keys on his laptop.

Oh my God, marry me.

11:56 PM

Now it’s quiet, I can’t hear the pencil, the eraser or the keys of his keyboard. I decided I should probably check on him. I haven’t moved from my desk the moment I sat down.

I placed my pencil down, got up and stretched.

He’s sleeping.

His hand is still holding the pencil loosely and his head is resting on his work. What could you possibly be doing?

I made my way over to him and peered onto his desk.

I almost cried. It was beautiful. Different pieces of paper scattered, all filled with intricate and astonishing drawings. Each stroke was done with precision. He was assigned to the architecting department and every single one of his sketches seemed like a painting. With feeling and passion, he loves what he’s doing. He needs to stay here. Once I was done googling over his sketches, I think he’s had enough for the day.

I placed my hand on his shoulder and I couldn’t help but wonder, do you feel it too? Does it hurt? Do I kill you?

“Card, buddy, go home,” I whispered near his ear. He shook me off and nuzzled into his arm.

You are not making this easy for anyone bud.

“Cardlin.” As much I didn’t want to, I had to be stern. I see one of his eyes shoot open and he flies awake.

Clearing his throat, he begins, “Sorry! Oh my God! I’m sorry! Please don’t fire me, I got really sleepy,”

“Cardlin. You’re not getting fired. If anything, probably promoted.”

He catches his grip, stretches, and yawns.

“What time is it?”

“11:58, go home. Get some rest.”

“In a moment. Can we talk a bit?” My heart stopped.

“Sure,” I said while yawning.

“How’d you get here, Katalina?”

“Kate. Kate is fine.”