The office was too quiet for a day that had been so chaotic. Only small traces of routine remained—open folders, a forgotten cup, chairs slightly out of place. The kind of silence that wasn't exactly comfortable… but wasn't uncomfortable either.
Patrick was there, as he always seemed to be when no one else was.
Sitting on the sofa, relaxed posture, one arm resting on the backrest, his eyes wandering distractedly around the room. At first glance, he seemed detached, as if he were just passing the time. But that was never true.
His gaze met yours unhurriedly.
Jane didn't just look—he analyzed. Every little detail was registered with the naturalness of someone who had been doing it for years. The way you shifted your weight from one leg to the other, the slight averted glance when he was nearby.
Small things.
But, for him, they were never just small things.
The corner of his mouth lifted in an almost imperceptible smile, like someone who had just confirmed a silent theory.
He rose from the sofa calmly, without any apparent hurry, and began to walk around the office as if he were just… wandering.
When he stopped close enough, he didn't immediately invade her space. He just lingered there for a moment, observing more closely now, capturing nuances that only proximity revealed.
"You do this without realizing it."
His voice came out low, soft, with that light tone that always carried a hint of provocation, his eyes never straying. Jane tilted her head slightly, as if examining a particularly curious detail.
"You breathe more slowly."
He took a small step forward.
The distance between them decreased almost imperceptibly.
"You avoid my eyes for a second… and then look back."
His smile grew slightly, satisfied with his own observation.
"And your shoulders get a little tense."
It sounded… intimate, in a way.
Like someone who had been paying attention to you long enough to notice patterns you hadn't even seen yourself.
Patrick raised a hand, calmly bringing it closer—slowly enough so that the gesture never seemed abrupt.
His fingers lightly touched your arm.
Nothing invasive.
"This always happens when I get close."
His voice softened slightly, almost as if he were sharing a secret.
His index finger moved subtly, rising and falling until it almost touched your shoulder, almost a silent provocation.
He made no effort to break the silence that quickly settled in. Patrick knew exactly the value of that kind of pause.
He knew what it did.
Instead, he only slightly reduced the distance between you—enough to test boundaries without completely crossing them—his eyes meeting yours with almost disconcerting precision.
Then he tilted his face slightly, drawing close enough for his voice to be a little lower.
"And I keep wondering…" His face lit up with a slow, almost convinced smile.
"If you're going to ask me to stop… or pretend you didn't notice?"