Chapter Text
It was ten o'clock at night. Sigma was in his quiet work hour. At this hour, he was only in his office working on papers, something light and not too difficult to finish the day. From 10 to 11, he was calm. Although, in truth, he wasn't.
This evening schedule wasn't productive, he tought. In the casino's first months, Sigma didn't have anyone to help. He had plenty of secretaries, but not a personal assistant. This meant that he could barely manage his schedule, especially with his insomnia and determination. This wasn't working. And so, he had the brilliant idea of getting a personal assistant who could do everything. From managing his schedule to... sometimes even cooking for him.
—
The time you had your interview to be a personal assistant, you noticed. You were an observant person, obviously you were going to notice. Sigma was the person made to be a manager. That's what everyone tought, nobody doubted that. As said, observing is something you have, and seeing that he was perfect, so perfect that it seemed unreal, it was easy to know that it was all a mask and nothing more.
Your first day on the job was the hardest, Sigma was so stiff and uncomfortable. Where had that calm, in-control facade gone? Who knows. The worst part was that he kept staring at your clothes while he explained everything to you.
You had to reorganise every damn paper in his office, which even though they were all organised and perfect and all that, they weren't at all his job. When you confronted him about that and you asked why he didn't let any secretary do that, he answered you with the most professional way of saying "I don't know."
The next few days of work were awkward, but better. You didn't know each other very well, and you had to spend most of your time together. Sigma wasn't used to that, to not being alone. Aldo, you were constantly scratching at the clothes, so... formal, office-wear that you had to wear. You scratched so much that one day Sigma, bringing up a topic of conversation, asked you if you had skin problems, recommending a cream, since he had skin problems and knew about that. You told him it had nothing to do with that, but thank you. He remained silent.
That same day, you arranged his schedule. You arranged it so he would sleep at least 7 hours and have 3 hours of rest in a day. He wasn't happy at all; it was a waste of time, in his opinion. However, you took the time to convince him by telling him that "if you get sick there's no one to take care of this place, don't you think?"
—
It was already a quarter past ten. Sigma was still signing some papers when there was a knock on the office door. You were the only one who could get in during Sigma's last hour of work or even knock on his door.
"Please come in." He said with a tired voice that only came to you due to lack of effort. With those words, you walked in. You were carrying your bag, with various embroideries. Wait, when did you make it? He didn't see you with it today. His eyebrows furrowed a little in thought, but he let it go, that was for other times. Now he was worried because you were carrying a lunchbox.
"Look what I brought you, Manager. I know you didn't have dinner today, and it's too late to do so, so I decided to bring you something I cooked today before coming in for my night shift. Then I'll leave. It is light so you don't sleep badly." Your voice was soft, just like the napkin you left on the desk. After leaving the napkin, you placed a small lunchbox in front of him.
His heart and throat were tight. He didn't know what to say or do. He couldn't process this, especially with the anxiety of the moment. He had to stop himself in the moment. Sigma knew what he had to do. Just had to say thank you and all that. He had a whole night to think about it and-. He still wasn't responding.
"Oh, sorry. Um, thank you so much for this, I really appreciate it. You didn't have to, you know." He looked you in the eye as he said this just because he was polite. In reality, he wished he could look away. He was very uncomfortable, as usual. Responding this way was automatic, playing it safe. His thoughts were a mess, but doing this helped him avoid feeling crazy.
You stared at him, wondering what to say. You looked at each other, and you thought those looks said a lot. Thinking about it, the looks didn't say anything since you didn't have any connection, no?
Finally, you smiled again and responded politely. You also had another moment to think about this.
"Don't say that, sir. I'm doing it out of courtesy. You're the only one who didn't have dinner; I don't want you to go to bed without having your three meals a day. You're welcome, you can just thank me by eating what I brought. Oh, and please only open your lunchbox when I leave. Tomorrow I want to know what you think." You were a little nervous about whether this was really appreciated or if Sigma was going to eat what you cooked for him. You weren't sure why you cooked for him, and that day you were in a good mood and wanted to be a good person. That month you had a goal, to be a good person to everyone and always be well.
His eyes looked somewhat distracted. It was common for them to be like that around you, so there was nothing to worry about. You've been working with him for two months now, and you haven't had any problems yet. It was a very good work environment. Although you noticed that Sigma's slight nervousness only affected you. With the other employees, he always demonstrated complete control and calm.
"Okay, I think. I still thank you." Sigma knew you'd be leaving work for home in a little while. He didn't want you to leave so soon, and there was nothing he could do about it. So he tried to engage you in conversation about your bag, and to get things over with with the food thing making him a blushing mess.
"When did you do that?" Pointing at your bag, his voice low. It was likely that you didn't want to talk to him and just wanted to leave, so he spoke quietly so as not to disturb you. He only liked you as an employee and wanted to have you his office, normal. He also felt guilty because you wasted your time making him food when he didn't need it.
"This? I made it in my spare time with the secretary of one of the executives. I really like her, and she's very kind. She knows how to embroider. So pretty! I spend most of my time with her. You and I used to spend more time together, but now I spend it all with her. We're good friends." Whenever you answered a question of his, you talked a lot and more than necessary. Some would say that it was rude since he was your boss or something, but you didn't even realise you were doing it. Sigma seemed delighted by this, not bothered at all. He wished he could talk as much as you. He admired people who expressed themselves without difficulty, even though he was never himself. And even when he felt internally jealous about the fact that you already made new relationships at work and weren't just focused on him, Sigma felt excitement every time you talked to him.
—
After following the conversation for a little while, you retired. You left the office and continued your way through the halls of the casino, until you met the same secretary you told Sigma about earlier and you chatted with her.
—
Immediately after you left, Sigma let out a sigh and his face filled with an excited expresion. He opened the lunchbox in desperation to see what was in it. It wss gnocchi with tomato sauce. In the other compartment was a slice of apple pie. It was light, just like you said...
He had to organise his thoughts, now that he has time. When you told him the lunchbox was for him, his heart started to burn, it was completely melted. All of his employees were good and kind to him, but none of them ever did anything as profound as this. It's also the most loving first act —If that can be taken as loving— made towards him. They've always used him, and the fact that you did something so minimal, yet so significant, made him want to throw up butterflies somewhere in his office. Likewise, he felt guilty and somewhat ashamed. You didn't have to do that, and besides, you wasted your precious time just because he doesn't keep track of his eating schedule.
You probably did it just to get on his good side since he's your boss and not because you appreciate him, but he decided to ignore it.
Finishing organizing his thoughts was hard. Sigma really appreciated you, didn't he? He appreciated you so much, like a boss appreciates an employee. He was totally grateful to have you by his side the last 2 months. It was nothing more than that, he told himself.
His pupils dilated when he saw the food again. If he didn't eat it now, it would get cold, or worse, he wouldn't be able to eat what you cooked in time. It looked so delicious. And truth be told, this could also be considered the first time someone cooked something for him just because and not because he paid them to do it. It looked so homey, something that he never had. Well, the casino was his home, but, rather it is known that something like a casino, something that can be easily left, can never be compared to a home, to a family, like the feeling of belonging. Sadly, it was all he had. Besides the gnocchi his assistant cooked for him, of course.
Every bite felt like Sigma was a little angel from heaven eating with God, or something similar. He's not a king, and yet he was still eating like one. In every bite, you could feel... all the effort you put into it.
The manager didn't realize his joy was about to end until he was about to take another bite and his fork hit nothingness. His belly was full, not just from the gnocchi you cooked for him, but also from a feeling of warmth and something more.
He looked at the piece of apple pie, He wanted to eat it in one bite. He stopped himself, thought he shouldn't do that, and should save it for the early morning. Even though you adjusted his schedule so he could sleep more, he didn't do it and sometimes stayed in his room doing things at night.
—
The exact moment his shift ended, Sigma was smiling goofily as he gathered his office stuff. Oh, he doesn't know, he should check the cameras on the monitors just in case, there might be a problem. It's his duty to take care of this casino, so checking them wouldn't hurt.
Or so he thought.
Seeing the cameras, he saw the scene of you hugging that secretary. You two were so close. And even though you immediately separated, you went in two different directions without looking at each other, That caused Sigma to turn off his cameras with some expressed frustration. His footsteps were somewhat heavy until he reached his room. The same routine as always: hanging up his coat, undressing and go for a shower.
The water he was bathing in was boiling hot. Sitting on the side of the shower, he closed his eyes, tilted his head to the side as he let the water run over his body and warm him. It was his nightly hug.
There was water in his eyes, not from the shower, but from his own tears. How stupid, why is he crying? He doesn't even know how stupid it is to cry about that. Is he jealous? Why do you hug someone else at work? It's so stupid to cry about it. He's not even crying about you now. He's crying about how dramatic he is and how sensitive and foolish his heart is. The worst part is that he has to wait until tomorrow.