I see you.

It's become a new routine of his. Wake up. Make coffee. Get clothed. Go to the window for a little meet-and-greet.

Seeing her across the street, in her apartment, gave a spark, so to speak, to his boring everyday ways. A little something to raise his spirits so he could deal with all the assholes in the office.

God, how Kester hated that goddamn place! Everyone had their heads so far up their asses that they didn't see how their holier-than-thou attitude pushed them one step closer to getting a punch in the face and a hospital bill for a much-needed nose job.

This morning was no different. He stood beside his window with his hot coffee in hand. He took a sip, savoring the bitter taste on his tongue. He lived off coffee at this point. Staying long hours in the office demanded it. And all for what? A paycheck, only to keep a quote-unquote decent life?!

Kester fixed his reading glasses, which he'd put on earlier to read an email his boss had sent him about today's meeting. He stared up at a very particular window, waiting for the person living inside to push the curtain aside and look back at him.

Her apartment was across the street. Twelfth floor. Her window had a perfect view of Kester's seventh-floor apartment.

Finally, the curtain went aside, and the familiar figure came into sight through the floor-to-ceiling window, making the sides of Kester's lips curl up into a smile.

It was stupid how much this little silent interaction meant to him. He sometimes wondered if the woman in the window felt the same about their long-distance morning meets.

The same questions did a speed-run in his brain as he failed to, yet again, provide them with answers.

"What's her name?"

"What does she do for a living?"

"Why the hell's there a giant sword hanging on the wall?"

And so many more.

Kester was curious about her. Not in an obsessive way. More in a… 'I-want-to-get-to-know-the-woman-staring-down-back-at-me-everyday' kind of way.

Those little interactions never went anywhere outside their morning window meets, and thus his questions remained unanswered.

Every day they'd stay there for a few minutes before going back to their lives, leaving those small moments of silence at the back of their minds to deal with their own daily life.

As his watch beeped, Kester looked at the time. He took off his glasses and stepped away from the window with a nod, going to work.

The meeting did not go as planned. Everything went wrong. Needless to say, they lost a very important client. His boss, upset about the whole thing, sent everyone home for the day—the upside of a failed business deal.

When he got home, he picked up the pack of cigarettes from the coffee table, put one between his lips, and lit it. He could already hear his mom screaming at him if she saw him smoking—a ridiculous habit he had picked up a few weeks ago to deal with the stress from work.

Kester's eyes fell on the window. "Could she be there?" he thought.

With a heavy heart, he pulled the curtain aside, looking up at that familiar window. The lights were on. She was home. He wasn't religious, but he prayed to whatever higher power there was to bring her to the window. A simple glance would be enough for him—to step into the pocket world he'd created with this nameless stranger.

It must've been his lucky day, because she did. She came to the window like a sign from above that not everything in the world wanted to screw him over.

Kester smiled a stupid grin. He saw her look his way, and his heart did a weird flip.

He raised his hand to give her a wave.

"Please wave back," Kester muttered under his breath. He kept his hand up, leaving the cigarette unattended between his lips, hoping to get a reaction.

She waved back. She waved back!

For some reason, his heart started racing in his chest.

"Okay… what do I do now? Jesus… fuck." Kester hadn't really planned anything out for after the hello gesture. He just kept staring like an idiot.

He scoffed at his own antics, putting the cigarette between his two fingers, exhaling the smoke.