21- too much

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Can we just... take a minute to appreciate how CUTE??

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Wednesday

Throughout my adolescence, I've always been a self conscious introvert, dreading every class where I was forced to present or read out loud. It was truly unnerving.

Since college, and more specifically since dad made me take on way too much responsibilities to handle at the time, I became much more resilient and outspoken. It must've been the anger, but at least I channeled it into something productive. Looking back at it, he pushed me out of my shell, but it was still too much of a tough time for me to thank him for that.

Although I've gained tons of confidence since then, whenever I was due to present a pitch to important people, it took me all the way back to high school Aylin. My nerves would always sneak up on me, making my voice tremble, my heart race and my stomach fill with nausea.

I knew what I was getting myself into when I applied for this position, as I love what I do and aspire to grow more as an employee and a person. Although my job is definitely challenging which I enjoy, there's a part of me that wishes I could've done something else whenever I'm in the spotlight. Everyone in the room eyes me as I explain what I've compiled on my PowerPoint.

Thankfully, I know exactly what I have to say, but I'm more conscious about my delivery as I can feel my entire body overheating with anxiety. I avoid Teagan's gaze the entire time, knowing that it would make everything worse.

By the end of it, I get more compliments than I do questions, but I don't mind. Usually, I'd encourage them, but I'm in no mood to answer. I even grab random items when they approach to shake my hand, since I know they're unusually sweaty. Once most of them are out the door, I turn around and release a huge breath as I lean against the edge of the table for support.

Grabbing my water bottle, I take a few huge gulps since the tense knot in my stomach finally loosens up, though I'm still struggling to cool down.

"Aylin." I hear that eerie voice from behind me, instantly making me stop chugging.

I turn around to face his menacing self, "Yes, Teagan?"

"Good job. Glad I didn't miss it." He compliments me.

"Thank you." I respond in a monotone before drinking some more. My throat feels dry still, so I decide to finish the bottle.

"Are you well?"

"Am I well?" I raise a brow at him.

"I saw you're leaving in an hour." He mentions, "Are you okay?"

I fight myself as to not roll my eyes at my superior, "I'm alright."

"You looked a bit out of it while you were presenting." He mentions, "You still do."

"I was just nervous."

"Are you nervous now?" He then questions, bringing back that uncomfortable knot in my stomach which just left.

"No." I lie. The fact that he takes two steps closer doesn't help at all, but it's merely to grab his briefcase.

"Okay, well." He shrugs, "I'm off to my next meeting. You sure you're fine?"

"Yes." I answer a bit more harshly than intended.

"Let me know if you need anything." He adds before leaving the room.

"And why would I do that?" I mutter incredulously, "Creep."

Once I've packed up my things and head to my desk, the usual sense of relief doesn't hit me. I walk towards my desk and immediately open my emails to do my weekly progress reports. My movements feel strenuous and the heat I assumed was from nerves is still there. I can feel my blouse sticking to my skin, but I can't remove my blazer if that's the case- even though I'm in need of some cold air.

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