They sit together, in this public space, the sides of their thighs touching because their chairs are so close, the books that state the intent of this liason sit on the table in front of them.
English/Chinese translation is a tome that is impressive in it’s size and promising, but it does not achieve anything today.
He runs his hands through his hair as he exhales, then pushes his chair back sharply, stands up and stalks away while she, with her beautiful open anxious face looks after him.
This isn’t in the book.
Her eyes follow him achingly as he moves through the space away from her, measuring, weighing, thinking, while she waits; confused and feeling as though he thinks she is stupid, she lowers her eyes, looks at her hands and wishes she was smarter and prettier and ….so much more.
He avoids looking at her to think clearly, because he thinks she is beautiful, and that he is in love, and that he wants to be her everything, and instead of all of this, he is failing and frustrated, because she barely knows he’s alive.