FAYE
I sat curled on the far end of Alexander’s leather couch, knees pulled up, dressed in nothing but a pair of worn shorts and a t-shirt. The fabric clung in some places, loose in others, the way clothes do when you’ve thrown them on without thinking. He hadn’t commented on my appearance, but then, Alexander rarely did.
For a long while, the only sound in the office was the faint ticking of the wall clock and the steady rhythm of his typing. His focus was absolute... eyes locked on the laptop, hands moving with ease. He had this way of shutting out the world when he worked, like nothing else existed. I should have been used to it by now, but tonight it felt oddly familiar, almost nostalgic.
It reminded me of high school, of sitting in the principal’s office when I’d gotten myself into
