Tempting Warmth

"Shit."

I can't believe I slept off in his stupid car.

His ride feels unbelievably warm and toasty. I notice his ever handy spare jacket was draped against me. A part of me wants to toss it away, but it's warmth tempts me to keep it on. I go back and forth on my decision until I give in to it.

He keeps driving, still only looking forward and I get tempted to peek at his messy hair again.

Regaining my senses, I ask, "Where are you even driving me to?"

"Your house." He replies curtly.

A number of questions pop in my head, but I address the biggest one- how the hell does he know where I live? But I don't ask him, as I notice my familiar surroundings.

Stopping outside my apartment, he turns off his engine. I promise myself that it's the remaining warmth in the car that makes me stay inside.

We both sit quietly inside the car, waiting for I don't know what.

After what feels like ages, "Pe-" He begins to say, but the noise from his cellphone snaps me out of it as I toss his jacket to the back seat.

I ignore his voice of what sounds like my name and I swiftly hop out of his car, scurrying into the building as fast as I can, without looking back.

Finally getting into my apartment, I peel off my wet clothes, setting the kettle to boil and rushing to take a hot shower.

After cleaning up, I feel sane again as I embrace my warm tea. Unfortunately, I keep sneezing into oblivion.

Picking up my phone, I open my messenger chat with Frankie, my life long punk of a best friend.

Looking at my last message to Frankie on how I beat my level in Candy Crusher, I already miss the simple times.

I text her, "Why the hell did you not tell me the bastard is back?"

Swiftly responding like always, I get a sarcastic reply, filling the message with as many unnecessary emojis as she can.

"Lmao what? 😰😰No way!😱😱 He's back?😲😲"

Rolling my eyes, I reply, "Well he is. How long were you going to keep it from me?"

"Sorry. You know why I did that... Are you okay?" She responds back.

Relocating to my bed and thinking of a way to reply her honestly without denying my own feelings, somehow, I doze off before getting to reply.

Waking up to a jingle by my favorite artist, I notice my low battery at 23% and sigh.

I sigh even deeper when I unlock my phone and see Frankie's unreplied message, "Are you okay?" Those three words seem to climb on my back, weighing me down.

Going through my daily motions, I brush, shower, get dressed, chow an apple, and head out for work.

Standing outside my car in the parking garage, I softly caress my 2005 Toyota Corolla, saying, "At least you're not stupid looking."

Being the first one to get into work as usual at the publishing firm, Words Weave, I get to settle in before most people arrive.

I've worked here as an editor for the past three years and I have always cherished the feeling of being first to arrive, as I get my office to myself.

My office is empty as expected, so I settle in my seat, turning on my computer and checking all my unread emails.

I see an unexpected email from my mom at 3:38am with the subject, "Are You Okay?" I grunt and star her email, but I do not read it, skipping it to do my work.

As my colleagues later file in, I make courtesy greetings and do small talk, noting their polite glances at me, though no one says anything.

My nose starts to feel itchy as I work when a loud voice from behind me announces their presence.

David basically yells into my ears.

"What in the world Pelumi, you look like hell. Are you okay?"