#date everything mac

A door screeched open, wheels popped over the threshold, and those familiar sounds expelled relief from your lungs.

“Mac!”

Your eyes met. The relief fizzled out.

Mac’s gaze slipped past yours and landed on the fireplace. The fabric of their black hoodie bunched where they clutched it to their chest, jaw clenched.

“Mac?” you tried again, softer.

You caught the shine in Mac’s eyes when they refocused. You weren’t certain which one of you moved first, but the silent exchange ended with the two of you standing, wrapped in a tight embrace. Mac’s arms squeezed around the mass of your torso, and you pressed a hand between their tough but tired shoulder blades.

Your lips brushed their ear. “Come sit with me?”

Mac nodded into your shoulder.

The trek to the couch wasn’t a lengthy one, but time moved slower as your thoughts picked up in pace. Obviously, whatever came of the error made by that MoneyCoin employee had grown into a category five corporate disaster. The people left at the office would be assessing PR damage, clearing away paper wreckage, and if everyone was lucky, driving home before the clock struck midnight.

What the hell could go so wrong in a crypto company’s office building?