The Hidden Gaze
873 Words
The door opened slowly, and Brian walked in with the quiet confidence he always carried; shoulders squared, steps steady, and eyes fixed straight ahead.
There was something grounded about him—something calm and self-assured—that didn’t bend easily under pressure, even in the office of one of the most powerful men in the state. He didn’t look nervous. Not even a little. Lucy noticed that immediately, and it unsettled her in a way she couldn’t explain.
Most people changed the moment they entered this office. Their posture shifted, their voices lowered, their confidence reduced itself without permission. But Brian didn’t. He just walked in like he belonged anywhere he stood.
Lucy tightened her grip slightly on her phone, sitting still on the sofa across the office. She told herself she was just resting, but she already knew she was watching him.
Brian didn’t look at her. Not once. His attention stayed exactly where it should be—on his boss.
“Brian, hand over the documents,” Arthur Davidson said without looking up. His voice was sharp and direct. The kind of tone that didn’t invite delay.
“Yes, sir.”
Brian stepped forward immediately, placing the files neatly on the desk. Both hands steady, movements controlled and precise. Nothing extra. Just efficiency and discipline.
“Wait behind,” Arthur added. “You’ll take them back to the manager when I’m done.”
“Alright, sir.”
Brian stepped back into position without hesitation, standing quietly near the edge of the room. Not too close, not too far. Just where someone like him was expected to be.
Lucy lowered her gaze to her phone. The screen lit up, but she wasn’t reading anything. Her thumb hovered without moving; her mind wasn’t there. It kept drifting back to him. To the fact that he was in the same room. Breathing the same air. Existing so calmly in a space where most people struggled to even sit properly. She could feel his presence. Not loud. Just steady.
And somehow, that made it worse.
Her father flipped through the documents with practiced rhythm, pages turning one after another. Controlled and unbothered.
“Brian,” he said without looking up, “get me the file labeled EXPENSES from the shelf.”
“Alright, sir.”
Brian moved immediately. Lucy told herself not to look, but her eyes lifted anyway. Just for a second. Small, careful glances she hoped no one would notice. He walked toward the shelves, scanning them with quiet focus. Everything in this office had structure. Everything had purpose. And so did he.
“Here it is, sir,” Brian said after a moment, returning to the desk. Arthur took it without pause. “Good.”
Lucy quickly looked back down at her phone, as if she had been caught. Her thoughts kept slipping.
"Imagine how he sounds when he laughs…"
The thought was soft and dangerous. A faint smile touched her lips before she could stop it.
Brian stood quietly, waiting. On the outside, he was a statue of professionalism. He was aware of her presence in the room, but he kept his eyes locked strictly forward, maintaining the boundaries of his job.
“Brian,” Arthur said again. “Return the EXPENSES file and give these documents to the manager as well.”
“Alright, sir.”
He collected the files and walked out. The door closed softly, and the room changed instantly. The silence felt lighter, yet emptier. Lucy exhaled slowly, only now realizing she had been holding her breath.
Out of pretense, Lucy asked, her voice barely a whisper:
“Father… is that a new sales boy?”
Arthur Davidson didn’t look up from his desk. “Yes, Lucy. I was supposed to tell you. Every new worker in the company should be known to you. After all, you’re the heir to Davidson Industries.”
She nodded slightly, maintaining her mask of indifference. Then he added something else—information that landed like a blow to her chest.
“Brian is just a poor boy from the streets, I guess. He needed income, so I took a chance on him. I even accommodated him in the company's apartment.”
A poor boy from the streets.
The phrase echoed in her mind. Her fingers curled around her phone until her knuckles turned white. Her father would never approve of someone like that. Someone without a name.
“O-oh. Alright, Father…”
But her mind was already spiraling.
"If Father finds out I even… like him—"
She stopped the thought. Arthur Davidson didn’t accept things he couldne’t control. And he certainly didn't accept nobodies.
Her grip tightened.
"Should I stop this now? Before it becomes something worse?"
But then, a quieter, more dangerous thought followed:
"He is a poor boy from the streets… he has no one. If his life is the problem, then maybe I can be the one to fix it."
She had the power. She had the name. What scared her more was the realization that she didn’t want to stop.
As she looked at her father, one final, haunting question ran through her heart:
"Is it wrong if I'm the one who wants him first?"
- Writer
