Eros: The Obsession

Chapter Five

Jun is avoiding Tara.

She doesn't notice at first, but it soon becomes apparent when he doesn't even look her in the eye when she greets him. The first thing she notices is how he stops walking her to work.

Although they'd only walked to work together a few times, it had become something of a routine and she'd started looking forward to their mindless chatter and getting to know the mysterious neighbor just a little bit more. Now, Jun takes another route all-together. Tara knows this because she'd followed him one day.

She'd waited by the door, listening out for the tell-tale sounds of him leaving. When the distinct tap-tap of his work shoes grows distant, she slowly peaks out of her own apartment. Seeing no one in sight, Tara follows along a little behind the man.

She follows him down the street, around the block and watches as he veers to the left, avoiding their usual route entirely. This one is longer, doubling the time it takes to get to the publications building so that by the time they actually get there, both Jun and Tara are slightly out of breath. With no time to collect himself, Jun stumbles into their office space with a light sheen of sweat glistening over his porcelain features. Tara stands outside, not wanting to seem too suspicious by stepping in directly after him. The rest of their team already sits at their designated desks when  Jun asks about Tara's absence.

"She hasn't come in yet," Eric tells him. "She probably went to see Rossin first."

Jun grunts an affirmation and Tara feels her heart flutter at the thought of him worrying about her. When she steps into the office a few minutes later, Jun doesn't even glance her way.

He also doesn't sit with her during lunch.

Instead, Jun joins Tucker and Sean with a group of other employees at the far end of the cafeteria. Tara tries not to notice how one of the women in the group – a pretty red-head with a heart shaped face and plump matte-red coated lips – laughs a little too hard at something Jun says, running her hands across his shoulder.

Tara feels an overwhelming urge to break every bone in her hand, to pull off every perfectly manicured nail on her finger. The need is so strong, so visceral that for a moment, she feels like a completely different person.

"You spilt yogurt all over your hand," Eric comments, drawing Tara's attention back towards him. The red haze dissipates, anger replaced by guilt as she glances down at her hands. Her fingers are still tightly wrapped around the yogurt container she'd been eating from, the pastel pink jelly now spilling out onto the table and running between her fingers.

"Great," Tara sighs, grabbing a handful of tissues from one of the dispensers. She uses the material to cup her hands before she stands and retreats to the staff bathrooms.

It only takes a few minutes to clean herself off but when she steps out of the women's stalls, Jun is pacing in front of the doors. When he sees her, he rushes over, brows pulled together in worry.

"What happened?" he snaps. "Did you get hurt?"

Tara's eyes widen in surprise, heat rushing up her neck at the attention. "Uh, no. I just spilled some yogurt on myself."

Jun visibly deflates, his shoulders falling in relief and his forehead evening out. "Oh," he mutters in a dry tone and suddenly starts fidgeting with his fingers. "Right. Okay. Uh, I'll see you around then." He doesn't even wait for a reply, just spins on his heels and high-tails it back to the noisy lunch area.

The elation Tara had felt at his worry immediately dissipates and she hunches in on herself, tears springing to her eyes as she lowers her head in dejection. The ring on her finger feels heavy, stirring up another range of emotions within her that just succeeds in confusing her further.

It's raining the next time their team is designated to go out for a field story. The location is somewhere in the countryside, near one of the local dairy farms about an hour's drive from the city. They take one of the company vehicles, Tara sitting up front in the passenger seat with Jun in the driver's seat because the rest of her team doesn't like driving and had offered him up instead.

They don't really speak much, save for exchanging a few shallow pleasantries about the story. It's the first time Jun has had to use one of their video-cameras and Tara can see his excitement in the way his eyes light up when gushing about the features. She tries to avoid thinking about the fact that he'll be forced to stare at her through its lens for most of the day, the idea making her feel a flurry of confusing emotions. She still doesn't know where they stand, why he's avoiding her or what she's done to warrant such treatment. Tara also tries to avoid thinking about that too much, afraid of the conclusion she'll come to. She also tries to avoid looking at the way Jun's fingers flex over the steering wheel, but fails dismally.

Like a moth to a flame, her eyes are drawn to the veins popping up along his arms, the sleeves of his sweater rolled up to his elbows. His fingers, long but so elegant and soft, curve around the steering wheel carelessly, like he needs little effort to control the vehicle. His other hand leans on the doorframe, his head tilted towards the side so that his fingers aimlessly run through the waves of his hair. The column of his neck, now exposed, makes Tara's mouth dry and she swallows around the weird feeling that starts to bubble in her chest. For a moment, she imagines leaning into the dip between his shoulders and neck, imagines running her nose along the delicate skin there, dropping kisses to the pale white of his collarbones –

"What're you staring at?" Jun quips, eyes flitting in Tara's direction for a moment before they return to the road.

"You're really pretty," she says without thinking and immediately wants the floor to swallow her whole.

Jun chuckles, throaty and deep, the apples of his cheeks pinking prettily as casts a glance once more. "You think so?"

Tara nods shyly, dropping her gaze to her lap.

"Prettier than Ren?" Jun asks and it takes everything in Tara not to reply with what she's thinking.

"No one is prettier than Ren," Eric quips from the back."Not where Tara's involved."

"Right, of course," Jun laughs but there's something disappointed in his tone that makes shame heat across Tara's cheeks.

Logically, she knows that she shouldn't care about his opinions – not when she's already with someone else – but something about disappointing Jun makes Tara's heart feel like it's being repeatedly stabbed over and over again.

She doesn't look in Jun's direction for most of the ride. Tara doesn't know how to feel when he seems absolutely nonplussed by her ignoring him.

When they get to the farm, Jun and Tucker scrabble to sort out the camera equipment, wrapping it in waterproof covers as the rest of the team readies themselves with the story. Sean equips Tara and Eric with handless microphones, attached to their shirts and she tries not to notice the way Jun glares at the brush of Sean's hands against her chest. It sends a little spark of confidence her way, only elevated when Jun seems to take it upon himself to help her over the water puddles that litter the driveway.

His hands are cold around hers but secure, fingers pulling her along firmly even with the camera hoisted over his back. Tara doesn't say anything for fear of scaring him away again.

The farm owner is a portly man with a bushy moustache. He wears a giant beige sun hat even though they haven't seen the sun in over a week, what with their city's rainy season coming in full swing. The man shows them around the farms as Jun and Tucker gather B-roll footage, prattling on about how ethical their farm is and how well-cared for the livestock are.

His enthusiasm and knowledge sounds a little too forced, like he'd prepared to present this persona of well-spoken, intelligent farm owner who cries every time he has to slaughter a cow. It rubs Tara the wrong way, something in her gut telling her that something else is going on behind the scenes here.

Still, she does the interview like she's supposed to, asking all of the necessary questions so that Rossin doesn't chew her out again. It's when they walk across the rear end of the farm, where a large barn area is cordoned off by fences, that she realizes something is off.

"What's that area used for?" Tara asks in a casual tone.

"Nothing," the man barks out almost aggressively and then immediately backtracks. "That's the old barn house we used when we were just starting off. We use it for storage now."

"Can we have a look inside?" she presses.

"No," the farmer dismisses. "That's private property and I don't think it pertains to this story."

Tara nods in acquiescence, "Alright, not a problem. Can you take us back to the sheep to get some B-roll?"

"Yes, of course," he replies in a distinctly more friendly tone. He leads them up to one of the main barn areas and as they go in, Tara keeps her distance outside the gates.

"I'm going to need you to sign some agreements," Tara tells the farmer in a nonchalant tone. "Just some administration stuff. I'll just go get them from the van."

The farmer seems a little apprehensive, so Eric cuts in, "Great! While you do that, we can interview Mr. Vrede for our local business column. It's a feature piece about entrepreneurs who made their own fortunes and I think you'd be a great fit, Mr. Vrede."

"Of course," the farmer chortles happily, his moustache twitching with his excitement. "Call me Henry."

Tara watches as Eric leads the farmer further into the barn, throwing a cheeky wink her way just before they round the corner, in search of the 'perfect lighting'. She takes that as her que to leave, and tries to be as discreet as she can as she makes her way down the path to the old barn house.

"He filled out all the agreements last week," Jun quips from behind her. "What exactly are you doing?"

"He's hiding something in that barn," Tara replies confidently, for once feeling like her old self. That familiar adrenaline boost of a scoop thrums through her bones, her attention narrowing to one goal: find out what's in the barn.

"We could get arrested for trespassing," Jun hisses in warning, jogging to catch up to her even as he tows the camera along.

"Then go wait in the van," she replies.

"And let you get shot?" Jun scoffs, "Not a chance." He falls in line with her, brows pulled together in determination as they near the barn. "What makes you think he's hiding something?"

"Just a feeling," Tara shrugs. "I really can't explain it."

"When they near the building, Jun looks around for guards while Tara tries to find a way inside. They manage to spot a side door, blocked by a few stacks of hay and nearly impossible to see if you weren't searching for it. Tara pulls it open slowly as Jun trains the camera on her. She walks in, followed by Jun, and gasps at what they find.

Drugs.

"He's using it as a meth lab," Tara chuckles as she eyes the various globes and containers.

"How do you know?"

"It's the smell," she tells him, scrunching her nose at the sharp scent, like a hospital but stronger, dirtier. "And I bet if we took this to a specialist, they'll tell you it's meth." She holds up a glass vial of white, powdery crystal. "Get footage of this stuff, while I find something to put this in," she instructs.

Jun films the area while Tara gathers a sample, making sure to work quickly.

They have just enough time to stash the evidence in their van before the others make their way over to them.

"Did you find the papers?" Eric asks, followed by a seemingly nonplussed Mr. Vrede.

"No, I must have left them at the office. Jun told me that you'd signed them already, so that's not a problem."

"Ah," the famer nods in understanding. "Not a problem, then."

They bid their goodbyes before Jun drives them away faster than necessary.

"What did you find?" Tucker asks curiously.

"He's hiding a meth lab in there," Tara grins. "And we have enough evidence to expose him."

"Knew it," Eric snickers while the other two nod their agreement.

"Why does no one seem surprised by this?" Jun asks with a confused frown.

"Tara's usually like this," Sean tells him. "She has this almost sixth sense for spotting bullshit."

"Which is ironic because Rossin thinks she shines more on the features end," Tucker adds.

"Rossin's just worried she'll get someone else killed again," Eric scoffs and the other two men hit him across the head.

"Shut the hell up, man," Tucker grumbles. "No one wants to hear about your bullshit."

Tara hangs her head, tears springing to her eyes at Eric's words. That familiar, crushing guilt takes a hold of her chest, phantom fingers squeezing around her lungs and making it almost impossible for her to breathe. She turns to stare out the window, hoping that no one will notice the tears that begin to burn a path down her cheeks.

Jun remains quiet for the rest of the drive.