Sorata Takano

“I didn’t suspect you of having a penchant for gossip,” he remarked more quietly, with curiosity rather than reproach.

You lifted your chin proudly.

“To others, it’s gossip; to me, it’s information to verify before the office starts boiling over with unconfirmed rumors.”

Silco suddenly took a step toward you, closing the distance even further; he had you within arm’s reach, and goosebumps broke out on your neck, hidden by your collar.

“So now you’re also acting as the guardian of the truth, huh?” he smacked his lips, leaning just a little toward you. “Sometimes I wonder if you don’t have enough to do during the day. Maybe I should keep you close to me longer and correct that behavior a bit — what do you think?”

“You’re doing... what?” you stammered, unable to hide the tension in your voice.

Silco raised his eyebrows, seemingly a bit taken aback by your reaction.

“You heard me,” he replied, unperturbed. “Come on, don’t be so freaked out. You didn’t miss anything; I hadn’t planned on sharing this news yet.”

It all made sense. Of course it did — after all, he’d planned it, and Silco was always one step ahead of everyone else. The fact that you’d lost your composure so easily didn’t sit well with you.

“Well, um…” you cleared your throat, trying to hide your reaction. “So…”

You had no freaking idea what to ask, whether you even had the right to ask questions, or maybe you should just shut up already.

“It’s satisfying to watch you squirm,” he smirked. “Always so composed, and here you are — one piece of unscheduled information and you lose your head. I’ll let you off the hook this one time.”

You closed your eyes for a long second and let the air out slowly through your nose. Mentally, you slapped yourself for the fact that his tone, his posture — his voice — instead of offending you, made you want to get closer.

That couldn’t be healthy.

“I know I shouldn’t have pressed for details so soon,” you finally replied. “Still, I appreciate you tell me.”

“You’re welcome,” he nodded slightly, without a hint of a smile. The atmosphere suddenly grew heavier, but not tense. “Since you know anyway, I’ll need you to prepare a few documents and listings.

You straightened your back, ready to work, even now that the day was drawing to a close. Silco was tired; you could see it in every shadow and crease on his face.

“Of course, which ones?”

“Your enthusiasm is charming, but not right now,” he waved his hand dismissively in the air. “This isn’t a one-day job. Transferring everything that’s been created here, including the archives and servers, will take at least a few weeks. As if I didn’t have enough work already.”

“My interest isn’t personal,” you lied, and through your dry throat it sounded worse than weak.

“Of course not,” he smirked, leaning slightly toward you once more. “I’ll tell you, but...”

You held your breath. His chest pressed against yours. His face was next to your head, on the same side where he’d brushed your hair back earlier. The bastard had planned it all — he’d even anticipated your curiosity. He was teasing you, and you were too weak to resist when his cheek was almost touching yours.

“But?” you asked, your voice wavering.

Silco laughed softly and low, his breath tickling your earlobe.

“You owe me,” he whispered suggestively, in a tone that made your knees go weak.

The sound, like an echo coming from the far end of the hallway and slowly growing louder, began to ring in your ears. And you started to be painfully aware of every single detail.

His breath was warm on your skin. Beneath the layer of cologne, you could smell a faint scent of smoke. No, not from cigars or cigarettes — the smell from outside, because the air was never clean. A hint of laundry detergent mingled with the freshness of his skin. A scent of tobacco, whiskey, and cologne always hung around him. Sometimes coffee. That’s why, catching those clean notes, you felt like a starving dog that had picked up a trail.

“I owe you… what?” you asked quietly.