Slow Dancing

15 | nocturne

1 5

n o c t u r n e

[Fr.] : Night; a musical piece written for the night.

OVER THE NEXT two days, I quickly fell into a routine at work. But that morning, I was taken aback when Kaden called me into his office before I could even pass him his sandwich and coffee. I went, my heart beating in trepidation because he was now unpredictable and I hadn't a clue how to act around him.

But he seemed to be hard at work again and barely shot me a glance as I entered. "Did Stella show you how to organise my schedule?"

"Well, no," I began haltingly. "She told me to clarify it with you."

"It's been three days and you haven't."

I knew that what I said next was in no way appropriate and I could get fired if Kaden willed it. But to me, this was never just a job to begin with and Kaden was never just a boss. This was a second chance and Kaden was someone I knew well enough.

So I simply shrugged. "You did tell me not to bother you unless you called me in."

"And yet you still bring food in on a daily basis," he deadpanned, staring the sandwich and coffee in my hands pointedly.

"Oh, right," I suddenly realised that I hadn't given it to him and quickly crossed the room, setting the food down on his table. "This is for you."

He eyed it with distaste. "You didn't have to – "

"I know, but I wanted to."

My words were met with a surprised silence on his part, and he briefly took his eyes off the computer screen to study me. I met his gaze evenly and held it, wondering why he'd become far more closed off despite getting his sight back. The eyes were supposed to be the windows to the soul. But how could I decipher anything when the windows were shut tight?

Finally, after a second or two, he glanced away and closed his laptop. "Take a seat."

I sat, watching silently as he drew out a tablet from the side drawer and pushed it across the table to me. When he didn't do anything else, I looked up at him.

He simply leaned back against his chair, spinning a pen effortlessly between his fingers. "You know how to unlock it," he said flatly.

He was right; I did know how to unlock it.

I remembered helping him to unlock his tablet on one of the afternoons I'd spent with him, and then hogging his tablet altogether when I got addicted to playing one of the games installed on the device. I'd spent over an hour deeply engrossed in it, while Kaden was surprisingly content just to sit next to me.

"You're terrible at this," he'd tease, every time the game made a sound when my avatar died. "I'm blind and I could probably still play better than you."

I remembered elbowing him gently each time he said that. "I just have really bad hand-eye coordination."

"Obviously," he had deadpanned, but when I finally managed to clear the level, he smiled warmly. "Not bad, you're getting better."

"Well, practice makes perfect."

"Yeah, and you've got a long way more to go, love."

It was the littlest details, smallest interactions like these that made my heart ache with nostalgia now. It was a stinging, bittersweet feeling that never quite went away. I missed it dreadfully, I was a fool to throw it all away; but I would've done the same all over again given the circumstances.