Work Text:
For the first time this month, the weather is cool enough that you aren’t sweltering in the heat of the sun as you walk to your favorite spot on campus for your lunch break. The only thing you hadn’t anticipated was that the weather would cause everyone else to come outside in droves. The thing about working at a medical school is that it’s always busy. Doctors, nurses, pharmacists, students, and staff seem to never sleep; shifts and classes and study sessions and research labs pile one on top of the other to create a constant mess of people bustling to get from one important place to another 24/7. The weather had made people more adventurous today, and they swarm the cafes and seating areas like ants on a hill. You’re able to dodge some of the crowd since you brought your lunch from home (for once), but your little garden spot isn’t empty like usual. All of the benches are occupied, but you find a satisfactory alternative in a low concrete wall that wraps around the flower beds in the shade of an oak tree.
People tend to mind their own on campus, but that’s not to say the environment is unfriendly. Passersby smile at you when they happen to make eye contact, some even nod or mutter a quiet hello. You’ve got sunglasses on and your earbuds in, but you do your best to read their lips and reciprocate with what you hope is a friendly response. It’s not that you’re an inherently solitary person, but your lunch break is your “me” time, and you’d rather sit in stillness with the breeze and your music and not have to worry about social cues right now. There’s a lull in traffic, and you sigh in relief as the stillness returns. When you’re ready to dig into your very normal and somewhat disappointing lunch, you notice a familiar figure shuffling near you on the sidewalk.
He always looks so put together, it’s almost unfair… His button-up shirt is crisp, bright and sometimes oddly colored; today it’s a saturated blue, making his dyed blonde hair and tan skin glow in the sunlight. You’ve never spoken to each other, but you seem to have some kind of mutual understanding–a familiarity at least. You always eat your lunch here, and he always comes out at around the same time, to…. what does he do exactly? Stretch his legs? Get some vitamin D? Once he was talking on his cell phone, but every other time he’s just strolled leisurely down the pathway, always alone, walking without much of a care or a destination in mind, it seems.
Now that you think about it, you always see him on your lunch break, whether you’ve managed to scoot away early or barely remembered to eat lunch at all. Today was one of the latter. You’d gotten bogged down with work, looking up at the clock to notice you only had two and a half hours left in your shift as your supervisor reprimanded you from the opening in your cubicle for not taking a break sooner. It was well past midday now, the shadows of the trees beginning to stretch across the cement in long, thin webs of leaves and branches.
It was a curious coincidence you’d never bothered to examine until now–how did you manage to come across each other every day? Maybe he comes outside a lot, you tell yourself. That would make sense–if he took walks often, you’d be bound to run into him more too, right? But no, that doesn’t really add up, because there’s no way he’d still have a job if he left his office that much… if he even worked in an office, that is. Considering you see him on a regular basis, you know nothing about him other than what your eyes can tell. He had an employee I.D. clipped to his belt, so you at least knew he wasn’t some shady character roaming campus without reason (well, you assumed the best anyway). His boyish face made his age hard to peg, but his slender, muscular body looked mature in comparison, so he was definitely an adult, but no older than 30 you’d guess. Beyond that, there wasn’t much you could gather without making assumptions. His color-coordinated outfits could mean he was fashionable and hip and did laundry on a regular basis (unlike yourself), but it could also mean he still lived with his mom or had a lover that liked to shop for him–what did you know? Also, why were you suddenly so curious today? Perhaps it was the weather, the upbeat song in your ear, or the way the light hit his honey skin… probably a combination of all of that, really. Regardless, it was fruitless to dwell so much on the personal life of someone who was essentially a stranger.
In your reverie, you hadn’t noticed that he had stopped just outside the shadow of the tree you were sitting under. You looked up to see him stretching his arms up above his head, a full, contented sigh leaving his lips that could be heard over the muted notes in your earbuds. He threw his head back a little, and even with his back mostly turned, you could see the puff of his cheeks grow in what could only indicate a smile. He lowered his arms and held them out, as though he was trying to gather the warmth of the sun into himself. He looked peaceful, almost devout. Maybe you were interrupting something, so you decided you’d leave him to his little ritual after one more glance.
You startled when his eyes made contact with yours. Considering how much you’d been staring it was surprising you hadn’t noticed that he had turned around, the smile still intact and his blue shirt lit up like neon under the sun’s touch. His smile grew bigger when you registered his face, and he inclined his head to you in the same way one might acknowledge an old friend from across a room.
Sometimes glances mean nothing. Sometimes smiles are just polite social cues, exchanged to avoid awkwardness or altercation. Some people are strangers, and they stay strangers. But other times, strangers become acquaintances, acquaintances become friends, friends become lovers, and then maybe they go back to being strangers all over again. You could do the polite thing–just reciprocate, acknowledge his gesture, and go back to your song and your sandwich…
You, smile, nod and take out your earbuds, setting your half-eaten lunch on the makeshift bench. If it’s possible, his smile grows, blooming almost, and he takes a step towards you.
Sometimes, a smile is the beginning.
