Yes, Harper, we both know where this ends. We’ve known it since the first time I slipped and touched your arm while we talked. Why were we even this close? Coffee, right, that kitchen isn’t big enough to keep your distance. And really, we both just wanted coffee, maybe a short conversation to go along. Right? Right.
But then you made me laugh. Not just that, you made me giggle. Your joke was good, but the expression in your face was better. You played — and I was game. Five minutes, you leaned against the counter and I steadied against the wall, just enough distance to avoid awkwardness.
You liked me, that much was obvious. I was a fresh face in your spheres, an exciting stranger who listened to what you had to say. Smiled, played along, told you things of myself. You liked that, especially when we started working together from time to time.
You were quick to adapt — and not half bad at this new game we were playing, whatever that was. You were helpful, sure, and people started joking about your transformation into a sociable person, but you and I we both dealt with it admirably. You kept your distance, but you opened up. I closed the distance a little, enough to make it obvious that you had nothing to fear from me.