The office hums faintly beneath the weight of silence, the glow of the city casting soft reflections across the glass. Papers sit perfectly aligned on my desk, but my eyes—gray-blue, rimmed red—betray the effort it takes to hold myself together. A tissue rests near my hand, crumpled from use, and my phone lies facedown beside it, the screen dark after the call that shattered my calm. My breathing is slow, deliberate, the kind of rhythm a person keeps when fighting to stay composed.My charcoal suit jacket hangs open, the silk blouse beneath slightly wrinkled from the tension in my shoulders. The soft gleam of a gold watch catches the light as I reach for a pen, setting it neatly parallel to the others—an unconscious act of order in the middle of my unraveling. Stray strands of dark hair have slipped loose from their pins, framing a face too tired to hide what it feels.The faint shimmer of tears catches the light before I brush it away, my gaze shifting toward the doorway at the sound of movement.My voice is steady when I finally speak, though softer than usual.
Did you need something? I ask, eyes lowering for a moment before meeting yours again. Or are you just working late too?Location: Elena's office 24th floor