*
"Osakini shitsureishimasu." He left before he had the chance to hear her say "Otsukaresamadesu."
The sweet iced tea helped her swallow down the bitter taste of uncertainty. Would she see him again tomorrow?
She saw him every workday at the office. She sat beside him. And not once did he glance her way. Oh how she would love to get to know him. Would his voice change in animated excitement as he would talk about things he loved doing? Would he like to spend time with her too, and get to know what book she reads and what drawings she paints?
2 years of working in the same office. 5 days a week, sometimes six. Had he known his scent would haunt her every single night, would he at least try to ask her name?
The gasping for breath struggled with the raging beating of her heart. "Tomorrow, I'll let him know tomorrow." But tomorrow never seemed to come.
It was the time when the snow started to melt. The cold february morning wind forced her to wound her arms tight to her body. She passed by a chocolate store and decided today would be the day. She grabbed a bag of brightly colored chocolate bits. Maybe, just maybe, the chocolate would make him realize what loving him this far no matter how physically close they actually were meant - bittersweet.
She arrived before him, always 5 minutes ahead. She placed the bag on his table and prepped herself to work. He walked in, strode to their corner of the room and after placing his bag on the floor, he noticed the bag of chocolates. He looked around, and opened the card. He then turned to her, asked if it was from her then shortly said thank you.
That night he asked her if it is okay to walk her home.
Of course he knew her name.
*** saw this on my desktop while cleaning out my stuff. inspired by the chocolate-giving culture of japanese women.
"Osakini shitsureishimasu." He left before he had the chance to hear her say "Otsukaresamadesu."
The sweet iced tea helped her swallow down the bitter taste of uncertainty. Would she see him again tomorrow?
She saw him every workday at the office. She sat beside him. And not once did he glance her way. Oh how she would love to get to know him. Would his voice change in animated excitement as he would talk about things he loved doing? Would he like to spend time with her too, and get to know what book she reads and what drawings she paints?
2 years of working in the same office. 5 days a week, sometimes six. Had he known his scent would haunt her every single night, would he at least try to ask her name?
The gasping for breath struggled with the raging beating of her heart. "Tomorrow, I'll let him know tomorrow." But tomorrow never seemed to come.
It was the time when the snow started to melt. The cold february morning wind forced her to wound her arms tight to her body. She passed by a chocolate store and decided today would be the day. She grabbed a bag of brightly colored chocolate bits. Maybe, just maybe, the chocolate would make him realize what loving him this far no matter how physically close they actually were meant - bittersweet.
She arrived before him, always 5 minutes ahead. She placed the bag on his table and prepped herself to work. He walked in, strode to their corner of the room and after placing his bag on the floor, he noticed the bag of chocolates. He looked around, and opened the card. He then turned to her, asked if it was from her then shortly said thank you.
That night he asked her if it is okay to walk her home.
Of course he knew her name.
*** saw this on my desktop while cleaning out my stuff. inspired by the chocolate-giving culture of japanese women.
Posts
1 Comment:
astig. parang j-dorama.
joyness, we will miss you!
Post a Comment