Scarlet
Once again, Damien quietly left a coffee cup by my desk an hour before work was done and even told me that I was free to go before 5. The evening air was crisp, the sun dipping below the treetops as I made my way home, the coffee cup still clutched in my hand like some kind of evidence of an unsolved crime.
It wasn’t warm anymore. The heat had long since seeped out of the cup, but my fingers remained curled tightly around it, as if letting go would mean giving into the confusion swirling inside me.
I hadn’t taken a single sip.
It wasn’t like Damien to do...this. I thought it was a one-time thing but again?
My mind replayed the moment over and over again, searching for hidden meaning in his actions. No snide remarks, no smug smirks. He had just...set the coffee down on my desk.
