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Moonlight spilled across Chris's bed. It was a quiet, cold winter night, but there was something tense about it. You were both wearing your pijamas, sitting on the edge of the bed, side by side.
“So, you're leaving tomorrow?” you asked, looking into his dark blue eyes, the kind that reminded you of the night sea
“Yeah…” Chris replied, avoiding your gaze
“For how long?”
“I don't know. It could be weeks, or it could be months.”
You fell silent.
You knew duty was calling. You had been working together for a long time, and you weren't exactly a couple, but it was true that you were more than just coworkers. You were the one who usually did his reports whenever he was too tired, the one who brought him his coffee exactly the way he liked it, and even the one who would tidy his office before he came back.
But this time, Chris was going to Russia on a secret mission.
You didn't know when he would come back, or if he would come back at all.
Chris's muscular arms wrapped around your shoulders, and you felt your back press against the mattress. His cold gaze met yours as he hovered above you. You knew that look was only trying to hide how burned-out he felt.
Chris lowered his gaze to your lips, as if he was asking for permission he didn't need.
When he noticed the way your eyes pleaded with him, he leaned down, his lips finally meeting yours. You caught the scent of his cedar shampoo mixed with a faint trace of the cigarette he'd smoked after the shower you had together.
Your breathing grew faster as the kiss continued.
“I’m going to miss you, Christopher,” you whispered against his lips, saying his name like a plea.
What happened that night in that room, stayed in that room. Underneath the sheets, the way he enchanted you whispering sweet nothings in your ear, and how you shivered beneath him, all wrapped up in embers. It was a night to remember
Two years later . . .
The smell of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the sweet aroma of pastries filled the café. There weren't many people around; it was still fairly early. The warm light of the cozy little place reflected off the coffee makers and fancy machines behind the counter.
Your heel tapped against the floor as you waited for an Americano with two sugars. It wasn't for you, but for your boss, along with a few documents you'd already printed.
Once the coffee was ready, the barista handed it to you in one of those convenient takeaway cups. It was still scalding hot.
You knew your boss liked croissants, so you grabbed a cream-filled one while you were there. The barista placed it in a small paper bag.
On your way back to the office, you spotted a few B.S.A.A. trucks out of the building. It had been a while since you'd seen them. They were always coming and going on missions.
Whatever.
You made your way toward your table with the background noise of printers and staplers, and then grabbed a folder containing some documents. The floor you needed to go to was the very top one—and, well, the building had more than thirty floors.
When the elevator arrived and everyone else dispersed, leaving it completely empty, you stepped inside and tried to press the button for the 45th floor without dropping everything in your hands.
Just as you managed to press it, you watched someone walk through the doors.
“Oh, sorry. I'm going to the top floor” you apologized to the man who had just entered.
“Ah, don't worry, I'm going there too.”
That reassured you a little.
Although, for some reason, something in his eyes reminded you of somebody you used to know.
He was wearing a B.S.A.A. uniform too.
Could it be…?
No, no way. It couldn't be.
“Want me to carry something? You look like you've got your hands full” the man asked.
“Oh, no, no, it's fine. Thank you, though,” you politely declined.
“Are you sure?”
You simply nodded.
“Alright.”
The elevator slowly filled with the scent of the coffee and croissant in your hands.
You could swear you'd seen him before. The fact that he seemed familiar but you couldn't figure out why kept nagging at you, It felt like a déjà vu.
You both stood in an awkward silence for a while, until you finally decided to break the ice.
“Coming back from a mission?”
He simply nodded.
“Yeah. We've been in Europe for a really long time” he answered calmly.
“I see, that must be exhausting.”
He let out a quiet laugh.
A quiet, familiar laugh.
A few minutes later, the elevator stopped at the 45th floor.
You two stepped out. The floor was completely empty, but before you could walk away, you felt his hand settle against the top of your back.
Instead of startling or pulling away, you instinctively reached for his hand.
Something about his touch was shockingly familiar.
“I don't think we've seen each other in a long time…”
You nearly dropped the coffee.
It really was him.
“Chris?” you asked, silently begging for it to actually be him.
“Himself, in the flesh”
The moment he answered, you threw your arms around him.
Chris hugged you back just as tightly. You noticed that his arms were stronger now, his veins more prominent, but somehow they still felt just as warm as they always had.
“Are you okay? Why were you in Europe for so long? Gosh, you look so different and yet so much the same…”
Chris let out the same laugh as before.
“Don't you remember? ‘Secret mission.’”
That was all Chris could give you.
Yeah, true, the B.S.A.A. and its secrets.
You could only sigh.
In the middle of the silence, a loud growl came from Chris's stomach.
You couldn't help but laugh when you noticed him looking away, slightly embarrassed.
“I haven't had anything in my stomach except yesterday's coffee” Chris excused himself.
You stepped back slightly and handed him the little paper bag containing the croissant.
“Are you sure? Isn't that for your boss?” you asked uncertainly.
“No, well, yes. But he only asked me for the coffee and the papers. The croissant was complimentary” you insisted, pushing the bag toward Chris. “Besides, who knows what you've been eating this past week.”
“Thank you,” he said, taking the bag. “It's still warm.”
You smiled softly.
“I should go now. The coffee's going to get cold.”
“Yeah you should. See you around.”
Chris smiled back.
You headed toward one of the hallways on the floor, the sound of your heels echoing through the corridor.
Then Chris called after you.
“Do you remember my apartment?”
You turned to look at him.
“How could I forget?”
That was the last thing you said before continuing toward door 118, where the boss was waiting.
Forget his apartment? As if you could.
It had been a night to remember every detail of.
“You took your time,” your boss remarked while typing something on his computer.
“My apologies. But you didn't tell me the B.S.A.A. was arriving today”
You placed the coffee beside him and the folder on a nearby shelf.
“So that's why you took so long? I suppose you got to see him,” he asked, taking a sip of the coffee you'd just placed on his desk.
So he was the one who had sent Chris to this floor?
He was strangely precise, and calculating.
“Yeah, I got to saw him... Should I thank you?”