Hidden Signals / Shourtney

Those Three Words

    Walking into the office, Shayne paused at the threshold upon spotting Courtney. Sunlight, pouring out from the window, streamed over her, casting an angelic glow across her blonde locks. High set cheeks glimmered under the warmed light, their rosy peaks cresting out from under her mask to kiss her eyes. Even under the black cotton mask, her wide smile shined as she laughed at some innocuous comment he presumed Sarah had made. It stalled him in his tracks as he soaked in her iridescent beauty, last week's unending discourse simmering away into vapor for a brief second. 

    Talks of commitment and numerous 'define the relationship' discussions had plagued the last few days, the majority revolving around those three little words, or rather his inability to say them. Tripped-over explanations and jumbled-up reassurances failed to soothe the discourse despite Shayne reminding Courtney time and time again that, even though he couldn't outright say it yet, his heart beat for her.

    The world still stopped whenever she entered a room. Butterflies continued to torture his stomach whenever Shayne got ready for a date. Courtney existed in every iteration of his future, but  — according to her — his failure to reciprocate those three words spoke louder than his stuttered-out excuses. Which, to be fair, Shayne understood, it had been months since she first confessed after all.

    Nevertheless, putting words to his adoration and devotion evaded him, an illogical fear that saying it aloud would scare her away. Though considering the constant tension of last week, not voicing it would hammer the final nail in the coffin.

    Her cheerful laughter reverberating through the small office shook Shayne from his thoughts, drawing his gaze to her profile. The pure glee on her countenance bolstered his confidence while the shy glance she shot his way churned his gut. A sullen quality tainted her joy upon her green irises landing him, the same disappointment seen the night before. Brief and fleeting, it disappeared the second she returned her attention to Sarah, who pulled an agitated glower at Shayne. A reminder that, as one of Courtney's best friends and confidants, she was aware of their situation. 

    Adjusting his mask, Shayne hobbled over to the couch and plopped down beside her. Without thought, he draped an arm around the couch, allowing his fingertips to dance across her neck and fiddle with her hair. Instincts drew him closer, walking his fingers across her shoulders as he scooted until she was tucked perfectly against him.

    No longer having to keep their secret at the office had its benefits.

    "Shayne, please," Courtney breathed, seizing the hand toying with her hair.

    Her rejection stung, the way she reoriented his arm to the top of the sofa and returned to her conversation with Sarah without even looking. At least he could still play with her hair, blonde threads still existing within his grasp but barely. For a moment, he wallowed in the growing distance between them, seeping in the toxicity that his inner voice spewed.

    She doesn't really love you. She just thinks she does. No one could love you.

    The little devil corrupted his mind with lies, manipulating his thoughts into a tangled mess of self-doubt. Words of deceit playing on repeat distorted Shayne's reality, tricking him once again that his silence was not the problem, that the second he validated her love, everything ended.

    She'll run the second you say it. Realize her mistake and bolt the second this becomes serious.

    Another beam of sunlight shot through the blinds. Brighter than its predecessors, it warmed the back of his hand as he looped a lock of blond around his pointer. Its rays evacuated the darkness corrupting his brain until Shayne's focus shifted back to how its golden luster danced on her silken locks.