Tony returned to his desk, scanning through the papers in front of him, licking his finger and flipping the page when it was appropriate. The text was blurring into one solid block as his eyes struggled to keep concentration. Scrawling his signature on the empty line at the bottom of the page without thought. He shaded his eyes with his hand, blocking out disturbance which would only add to his self-made distractions. A healthy mix of guilt, regret and confusion flowing steadily through his veins while his stomach muscles stayed stiff and contracted, unable to relax.

This morning he had been numb, successfully ignoring the situation that he was in. A skill he had picked up throughout the years, blocking off his emotions, becoming hollow. Or at least making it seem that way. The beer took away the sting of the guilt, for everything he had done in the past and everything he was doing now, everything he knew that was falling apart around him, but he seemed powerless to stop.

He didn’t realise that seeing her would be the thing that cracked the hard layer that he had built around himself. Having her reintroduced into his life, in these unexpected circumstances. Realising what he had let go. Seeing straight through her effort of independence, seeing her hurt. It seemed to be his wake up call, and now all emotion was rising to the surface uncontrollably.

He swallowed hard, grinding his teeth together softly, pushing himself through his thoughts, and allowing himself to feel. Coming back to life in the corner of a crowded room. His change oblivious to everyone, bar himself.

He looked up, watching her walk slowly towards him. She stopped to answer questions, to give orders. He wasn’t sure how to accept that she was his boss. He had never been ignorant enough to think that he was any better at the job then she ever could be, or that he was any more intelligent. He just never thought it would happen like this. He chewed his lip softly, his eyes glancing down to the papers every few seconds, in an attempt to make himself look busy. He ran his hand along the back of his hair and tugged at his T-shirt to flatten out the creases, Unconsciously wanting to ensure their physical attraction.

She kept her eyes low as she approached Tony. She was aware of the judging eyes that lay on her today, that lay on them both. In this building that they’d built so many memories in, where they came together and where they were torn apart. Their private lives spread across the walls for everyone to see, everybody knew their story.

‘Tony.’

She called, to pull his attention from the papers he was reading. It felt soothing to say his name without screaming it, and she was sure he would feel the same.

He looked up at her, eyes widening, opening up and giving her his full attention. The attention and respect that they’d once had for one another.

‘Yeah?’

‘You done with those yet?’

He glanced at his name signed at the bottom of the page.

‘Guess so’

He smiled, handing her the small pile that sat neatly in front of him.

A strange sense of falseness sat between them. They’d spent so many nights together, alone in deep conversation or comfortable silence. They knew everything about each other, fitting together solidly. And now this felt like a twisted game, where at any moment they would quit and fall back into each other’s arms.

The papers slipped from her hand, spreading generously underneath and around Tony’s desk. She clucked her tongue, letting out an exasperated sigh as she bent down to start sweep up and reorganise them.

‘Here, let me give you a hand’

Tony bent down opposite her, collecting the scattered papers and trying to arrange them back into order. He watched her mumbling to herself, cursing her simple mistake. He chuckled softly, as she harshly blew away hair that had escaped and lay over her eyes. A trait that had always amused him. He took his eyes away, desperately trying not to get overly involved.

She looked up, watching him relentlessly order the papers in numerical form crouched down on bent knees, completely absorbed in the task in hand. Her eyes rested on him so easily, flicking gently around his body, resting on his working hands, moving towards his eyes. His eyes that showed so much when they came to join hers. The eyes she’d stared at for so many hours. Since they had first been reunited a few hours ago, she’d seen the tears forming, she’d seen hidden emotion sitting, waiting, and successfully being ignored. She saw his skin wearing, wrinkles and imperfections slowly showing with the fast ageing that was forced upon him of late. But his whole persona had changed. He was trying, trying to be strong, not trying to be the person he ever had been, but to be someone new. His presence brought strength, it brought hope.

Their eyes lay gently in each other’s for a moment, their contact breaking down the stiff exterior she carried lately. When she looked at him she felt an unbearable relief, she wanted to move on, to carry on with her life and leave the past where it should be, but through it all, she knew these would be the only eyes she ever would find comfort in. She knew wherever she was, and whoever she was with, she would long for the contact, she would always be waiting for the feeling that sat hidden now inside of her new attitude. Sliding slowly out of the darkest corner, and slowly catching her up.

Tony slowly stretched out his arm, papers neatly ordered and pinned together.

‘All sorted.’

She took them from him, her eyes breaking away and looking down towards neatly arranged sheets, glancing over the words to distract herself from her own thoughts. From the slow easy answer that was forming in her head at such an inappropriate time.

Tony jerked his head sideways to catch her attention, unconsciously bringing back the warmth between them.

‘We good to go?’

A question wrapped in so many meanings. His eyebrows deepened, showing his genuine concern. His head hovering close to hers, as she sat blankly, eyes rising towards him. Trying to find the right words. The corners of her mouth rose slowly, trying to appreciate his attempt on being light hearted. Suddenly she realised that all day she’d been patronising him, looking down on him for being the weak man that she had left depending on a bottle and empty words. She blamed him for being blind, for not seeing what he was tearing apart, what he was throwing away. Now she could see that he’d started to open his eyes. A long and hard road sat before him, but the initial first step had been taken. She felt weak, all the time she’d been blaming him for being blind, and she’d only just opened up her own eyes to the truth.

Her smile grew weakly. Remembering him; missing him.

‘Yeah, I think we’re good to go.’