'Okay, I'll drop by the bakery to buy a cake after work'

Nate clicks 'send' and adds a memo to stop by the bakery.

These days his mind is so preoccupied – and the lack of sleep isn't helping – that he could even forget the weekly dinner at his in-laws'. 

His stomach turns just at the thought of this dinner. How will he even be able to eat something? Pamela's family has welcomed him like their own son; they're always so nice, like Pamela by the way, and he is betraying all of them. 

Tonight, he will have to put up a smile, hiding all of the trouble and guilt, hiding the lingering forbidden thoughts towards another woman, as yesterday, he's been breaking the law once again, discovering new fantasies.

'Love you'

He adds, his fingers typing the best they can as all his muscles are tensed.

Though if he really loves Pamela, why has he cheated on her? He's far from a perfect loving husband, lying to her like that. 

And 'love' what is it actually? Everyone uses this word. People have to love their family, their wife or husband, but what does it really mean?

Nate walks at a brisk pace through the hallways, staring at his screen as if the word would answer all of his questions. But all he gets is to be stopped in his tracks and to drop his phone when he bumps into someone. 

Yet it isn't any 'someone', and more questions arise in his head as he meets the hypnotizing hazel eyes of this petite someone, like why the universe is playing with him and the little sanity he has left?

The too fresh memories are flashing back through their minds, and through their gazes as, for a second, they stare into each other eyes, the closeness making everything else vanish around, before they both kneel to pick up their things on the floor.

"Er... sorry." Anastasia's sweet accent breaks the prickling silence, although there is still the background noise of the hallway, which appears so far away.

"No, it's my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going." He gets up, handing her her bag, and once more, noticing how heavy it is for her small shoulders.

"No... I mean, for yesterday..." She looks up at him from under her lashes and light frown, letting him glimpse all the concerns haunting her. "You helped me and... I-I left..."

He widens his eyes. "What? No! It's me who should apologize, I mean..." He sighs, running a hand through his hair. Funny how every time she is near, his curls get tousled one way or another, messing his perfectly neat image in more than one way.

"I've been wanting to apologize since... the first..." He stops with the shadows of some people passing by almost freezing him.

They can't have this conversation here with people around. This is too dangerous. So as soon as there is no one in sight, he opens the nearest door and pulls Anastasia swiftly inside with him.

The door is the one Anastasia has just stepped out of when she has run into him: a small and dark janitor closet full of brooms and cleaning products, and she loses her breath as her back hits the wall and Nathaniel locks the door. He is so close that she can feel his own short breath teasing her lips, while his strong body is caging her, engulfing her with his warmth.

Her big eyes staring at him through the darkness make him realize the little distance left between them and how his rough gestures could be misinterpreted once again, and he instantly takes a step back. 

Actually, he's almost jumping away, and since the lights don't come on automatically, he searches desperately around for a light switch to clear up the misunderstanding, or at least, the blur of his mind.

It's almost crazy how he's found the lock in less than a second and how he can see her gaze even through the dimness, but the switch appears unreachable for his hasty hands, which are running and almost knocking over detergent cans and stiff broom brushes.

He finally finds it though, of course, too close to her shoulder, and he pulls away as soon as the faint yellow lighting illuminates the narrow space, bringing some kind of out of this world and delicate privacy with it. It makes the green in her eyes stands out, and he focuses on them, letting out a big sigh as if it could push the words or the pressure out.

"Listen, I'm sorry for that day in the steam room," he speaks out what has been haunting him for days, what he has been meaning to do since that day but has never done because every time he crosses her magnetizing gaze, he forgets everything, his brain going blank, or more exactly blurry with burning steam, and his body taking over. 

But not today, he can't let that happen again.

"Do you regret what happened?" she asks bluntly, studying him calmly, while inside her heart is thumping a little too fast with his words.

"No, I don't," he breathes out, unable to lie under her piercing gaze boring right into his soul.

She will indeed make an excellent lawyer, and she could make the best liar confess all of his sins.

"But I feel like I took advantage of you... you were dizzy and innocent–"

"I was totally conscious of what I was doing. You did not take advantage of me. We were two conscious adults who made a mistake," she states, holding his gaze with an assured intensity that emphasizes each word. "But I don't regret it either," she adds softer, and it amazes him how angelic she can sound talking about their sins.

"I'd have preferred for you to regret it, blame me... anything," he whispers as if talking normally would make it too real, and he takes a step closer mindlessly.

He is fixing her like she is some kind of enigma, and the walls of the narrow room seem to be closing in, the oxygen getting scarcer because of the electric thickness building around them again. 

Under this intense gaze, her breathing becomes ragged, and her foot takes a slow step closer too, sharpening the tension in the air. Her body is already giving in again, and with each passing second, she feels her reason slipping through her fingers like a thin trickle of sand. She grasps the last bit before it is too late. 

"But we can't," she almost pants as their breaths are already mixing.

"Yeah, it needs to stop. I don't know how... But it needs to stop." He takes a step back, the distance heightening instantly and pulling on all her muscles. "This is illegal and dangerous." He nods and then shakes his head, lost in a struggle no one but her can understand. "We can't."

After all these times they have carefully avoided the subject, hearing those words she has repeated to herself every night is so strange, especially in his smooth voice. Facing problems is always the best way to go, yet in this instant, a rush to run away is invading her veins, as she isn't prepared to face this dead-end.

"What happened yesterday, the day before, all these times..." He starts pacing around in the small space as if battling with his own conscience and memories, and in a simple dark gray tee-shirt, of which the army insignia is partially shadowed in the faint lighting, he appears so far from the strong and imperturbable captain Johnson.

While she watches him immobile, holding tightly to the last grains of her reason.

"You're right, it was a... mistake." He stops with a shallow breath, his gaze finding hers again.

This word doesn't fit her; nothing about her is a mistake.

"We need to forget it... Je sais pas." She sighs as it's her turn to run a hand through her hair, and he just nods in reply, although he has no idea what it means; her gaze is clear enough.

She lets out a sharp breath, her hand accentuating her words. "We got things straight, now it can never happen again. We forget it."

"Yes, we pretend it never happened," he adds in the same tone of determination, trying to convince themselves with their words. "We go back with our lives like nothing ever happened."

"This is the safer and wiser thing to do," she agrees, and there is surely nothing else to add as their words are resonating in the silence following.

They just stare at each other for a moment as though sealing the resolution or maybe just battling with their desires, and through their gazes, there are so many things passing, more than they can comprehend.

However, it doesn't last long as Nate breaks off their stares, sensing his resolve won't last long so close to these hypnotizing warm eyes.

"Wait, Nathaniel."

He doesn't know why, but his heart skips a beat, and his hand stops instantly on the latch of the door.

"So what are we?" she asks quietly, peering up from under her lashes at his strong figure turning back to her.

They barely know each other, for hardly ten days, yet there is this closeness between them, a cozy intimacy which feels more than just the sharing of a forbidden secret, and the idea of losing it causes a twinge in her heart.

"I mean, we're likely to see each other again since we both work here and... after everything, I mean, after we talked and you helped me a lot..." She realizes she is rambling, something unusual for her because a good lawyer doesn't use a lot of words, just the right ones. 

Talking too much is giving away too much, but under his penetrating gaze, she seems to always give too much.

"Friends?" he whispers, afraid that this is too close for her, that it will push her too far.

"Friends." She smiles in return, content to put a word on it, even if it doesn't rhyme with everything they have shared.

She holds out her hand, and after a second of hesitation – and maybe also, a steamy flashback – he shakes it, the heat spreading on their skins with this light contact far from friendly.

"Um, you go out first?" he suggests as he unlocks the door. "I think it's safer."

She nods, aware that this friendship still isn't normal and innocuous, and as she walks out, a few light tingles are still tickling the hand he has just shaken.

***

A wistful smile comes across Anastasia's lips for a second as she walks past the same closet door. It has been one week, and she has not seen her new 'friend' once. Is he avoiding her? No, he is probably just busy with his life, his work, his wife... 

It is for the better, the safer, anyway. She has to focus on her studies, her work, Fergus, and that's what she has done all week, trying to keep everything under control. That's what she is used to doing; that's what she likes to do.

Although her thoughts are wandering past the limits with each step she takes.

"Hi." She smiles at some of her colleagues – whom she is starting to know quite well now – seated around a table as she is already entering the modest staff room.

She goes directly to the notice board, right next to the table, to check and keep control of her schedule for the afternoon.

Though when Vera appears beside her, the jump she makes back to reality is certainly farther than if she had just wandered to her tasks of the day.

"You're doing the dusting on the 28th floor this afternoon?"

"Um, yes," Anastasia replies, trying to focus on Vera's smiley face, but she is once more sidetracked and taken farther as her attention gets drawn by the voice of an anchorman ringing out through one of her colleagues' phone. 

'Military intervention' and 'severely injured soldier', those few words are enough to send her heart in a restless pace echoing through her ears.

She tries to discreetly look at the screen over her colleague's shoulder. But the images aren't showing much except for some military trucks and a deserted square with the remainings of a protest, and the presenter doesn't announce much more, apart from the fact that some soldiers have got injured during a violent protest and one is between life and death. 

Not knowing more information, Anastasia's mind is already spiraling, imagining, and making deductions. Maybe that's why she hasn't seen Nathaniel... Maybe he has been on a mission... Maybe he has got injured, maybe worst... No, she can't think of that; it is suffocating her.

"Anastasia?" She is pulled out of her oppressive thoughts by Vera's voice. "Did you hear what I was saying?"

"Er... no, sorry, I was elsewhere," she stammers, her hoarse voice echoing as many cracks as if a thick dark smoke was in her lungs.

"Oh, you were listening to the news?" Vera points to their colleague's phone, as Anastasia's discreet peeking has probably not been so discreet.

"Yeah," she confesses with another empty breath.

"It's terrifying those attacks of rebel groups, isn't it?" Vera folds her arms, shaking her head, and Anastasia nods, her gaze going back to the phone's screen.

A weather map is now displaying, with little red suns covering the whole screen. Yet inside, her mind is still clouded with dark thoughts.

"Anyway, let's not think about those terrible things," Vera resumes with her usual cheerful tone. "I was asking you if we could switch our schedules for this afternoon? Because I have to clean the windows of the big high-ceiling training room and I have an awful vertigo!" The wince she offers her could almost be comical, if Anastasia's features weren't still tensed in a pronounced frown.

"Of course! No problem, don't worry." The smile she tries doesn't work well, but it is the thought that counts as Vera throws her arms around her.

"Aww, thank you, you're my heroine!"

Anastasia's chest shrivels on her already compressed lungs with these words.

Do you think Nate is safe?

And what are your thoughts on Ana and Nate being 'friends'? Will it work? ;)

I hope you liked this chapter, if so, vote and comment! :)

In those difficult times, I hope to bring you a little ray of hope and joy because you're all my little rays of sunshine! :)

Also, I don't know if you noticed but I changed the cover, do you like it? Did you prefer the previous one? Tell me!! :)

PS: For the French lesson of today, we have 'Je sais pas' = I don't know 🤓😉