Episode 6: Sick Leave

Episode 6: Sick Leave

"Just exactly what are you doing?"

Leslie looked up from her position doing a handstand, seeing an upside down image of Christopher. Her hair was falling in her face and she had to tilt her head at an awkward angle to see the ever perturbed expression on his face as he soaked in the sight of her.

"I'm trying to not let my boredom get the best of me." She rolled onto her back lightly and went to get up but halted as his face hovered over her.

"And doing a handstand helps?"

She blushed having all of his attention onto her.

For the first time it seemed like he was genuinely interested in something pertaining to her.

"It gets the blood rushing through my brain. Sets my body on fire in an odd way, you know?"

He nodded with a wry smile which told how much he thought she was weird in many ways. But he never once voiced it as she stood up quickly, brushing off her hands.

"So how are you feeling now? Better?"

His face looked full of colour-well, more than it did a couple hours ago. He didn't look as weak either. After all, he did find the strength to make it all the way here to her makeshift office. He wasn't showing any signs of that affecting him with an after effect like over-exhaustion. It had been almost six hours since he was sleeping and at one point while checking up on him, the girl thought he was never going to wake up again. It was a morbid thought, she knew, but it couldn't be helped with how he looked like Frankenstein's son.

"I'm much better," then his eyes roamed the expanse of her moist face almost hesitantly. "Thank you."

It was a relief to hear that much.

It made her smile broadly, and for a second he stared at it in silent astonishment.

"I'm glad to hear that." She voiced, much calmer than how she was feeling on the inside.

From her bag, she took out a rag and dabbed the surface of her face with it. He watched her every move like a hawk before asking, "Are you going to leave now?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, not even the least bit surprised. "Do you want me to?"

He gulped, mouth parting but all that came out was a breathless sigh.

"I don't know."

The way his face contorted, seemingly in pain went straight to her heart.

The raw honesty within his words showed just how confused, or torn rather, he was in making this choice.

So she made it easier on him and took the initiative herself.

"I don't want to leave." Leslie announced confidently and his brows arched at the stance she was taking.

Her tone became more firm with him.

"And frankly, I don't think you want me to leave either."

He stood there, barefaced and blue for being put on the spot like this-just like he always did.

A momentary sign of rage flashed across his blue eyes; like lightning above the horizon of the sky beyond a dark storm. She thought he was going to put her into place in the candid manner he always did whenever she crossed the line.

Her eyes were on the verge of screwing shut, hands fisting by her side as she waited for a tongue-lashing but...

It never came.

He shook his head, as if against his better judgment, then gestured towards the laptop to the side. "Have you been editing all this time?"

Her mouth twisted at the way he ignored the topic.

Sighing, she answered nevertheless.

"Yeah, I didn't want to waste any time while waiting for you to wake up."

"That's very productive of you." He praised, allowing how impressed he was to seep through his voice.

Her eyes took in his figure and as if she was possessed by an unknown force, Leslie let her hands reach out to his buttons.

Christopher hopped away from her as if she was holding a snake in her hold and offering it to him.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"It's..." She flushed, pointing towards his shirt. "Your buttons have come undone."

"Why didn't you just say so?" The wonder in his eyes cleared with what was unfiltered relief and his hands went up to button himself up.

Leslie walked as nonchalantly as she could back to her chair and began to grab her things.

"What are you doing?" Christopher murmured, gazing at her, his expression unreadable.

"I'm leaving."

His eyes widened slightly, and he blinked, a fearful expression taking over his face.

Just as she was passing by him, he took her by surprise when a hand took a hold of her wrist. Her eyes snapped up as she felt him hover over her shoulders.

"Don't leave," he breathed softly against her skin, his voice giving way to a hint of sadness.

If she hadn't been so close it would've been a battle with her mind to see whether she had heard him correctly. Her heart clenched, a fresh wave of excitement filling her as she realized this was the first time he had not shunned her.

"Okay." She breathed after a long while.

Her body turned to see his eyes soften with relief.

"You know that this is the first time you haven't pushed me away, right?"

His pupils stilled, a myriad of emotions flashing across his face. When he reopened them, his expression was contrite, "You still have the freedom to turn me down."

Her face crumbled with pure perplexity.

"Why would I do that?"

"Why wouldn't you do that?" He challenged tensely.

She opened her mouth to enlighten him but he was already walking out the room.

Her mouth dropped open in disbelief.

Why didn't he wait to hear what I have to say?

The question was aimed at herself with so much frustration that she was marching out of the room and after him.

"Don't you want to hear my answer to your question?" She shouted at his retreating back.

He froze.

"I don't want to leave. I want to stay here...with you. If you're tolerant enough of me doing so, of course."

Christopher whirled around, looking as if what she had said had knocked the wind out of him. "No."

Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach.

"No?"

His lips pursed.

"No."

There was a feeling of self-depreciation which flooded her. Why did she keep doing this to herself? Putting herself out there only to be turned down at the end of the day? Why? Was it because Christopher was everything she ever desired in a man? Smart, good-looking and patient? But that didn't mean she had to lower herself-her pride and keep taking shots at him.

In that moment, she felt the feeling of anger overtake the shame she was experiencing. "Is it me?"

He gave her an odd look as if he didn't understand what she was getting at.

"Is there something wrong with me? Am I not desirable to you?"

He closed his eyes and when he opened them there was a glimpse of disapproval for what she said, "No, there's nothing wrong with you, Leslie."

"Then is it you?" She tried the other way around instead. "Is there something wrong with you which prevents you from entertaining the idea of us? Or is it because of our professional relationship? I told you—we can just be friends."

"Being friends was only a temporary excuse to sate your curiosity."

She felt a punch being delivered to her stomach.

"So you lied?"

"I never promised you anything for you to be calling me a liar, Miss Quinn." His voice was cool, his expression completely guarded.

Her eyebrows raised at the honorific, feeling stung by it like she had never been before.

And for the first time, she got an insight of the extent to which he was emotionally unavailable. It was becoming more difficult to figure out whether he was capable of love-giving or receiving. Even more so of anything close to the sentiment such as friendship. Between him and a woman. The realization hurt more than his own words had and with a bitter smile, she nodded in acceptance.

"You didn't," she agreed.

He looked partly surprised at her admittance.

"I'm sorry for thinking you had an interest in anything but writing. I should've known better."

His jaw clenched but as she walked past him this time he didn't stop her.

Leslie felt her eyes begin to water and a scoff left her at how pathetic she was being.

She hardly knew anything about this man other than what the internet told her yet she was so caught up on creating some kind of bond with him.

It made her feel like air every time she recalled how he has remained impassive towards her.

Stop reaching for stars, Les, she advised herself as she walked out of his apartment. They are stars for a reason.

***

SUBJECT: SICK LEAVE.

It was brought to my attention that you are not feeling very well. Is this your way of avoiding me with a hoax because of what happened yesterday?

Christopher Wells,

Author, Charles & Collins

This bastard...

Her response was immediate.

SUBJECT: RE: SICK LEAVE.

Are you really suggesting that I'm lying about my illness, Mr. Wells?

Leslie Quinn,

Senior Editor, Charles & Collins

SUBJECT: RE: RE: SICK LEAVE.

I don't look favorably upon someone answering my question with another one, Miss Quinn.

Christopher Wells,

Author, Charles & Collins

She scoffed at the nerve of him.

SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: SICK LEAVE.

If that's the case then I'm going to have to disappoint you. It just so happens that I don't like someone putting their own curiosity above mine.

Leslie Quinn,

Senior Editor, Charles & Collins

SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: RE: SICK LEAVE.

Are you testing me, Miss Quinn?

Christopher Wells,

Author, Charles & Collins

SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: SICK LEAVE.

That too is another question I won't answer. Have a good day, Mr. Wells. I can't assure you I'll be doing the same.

Leslie Quinn,

Senior Editor, Charles & Collins

She closed her inbox quickly so that his reply would not be seen. If it were to catch her eyes, she knew it would be something unpleasant enough to have her patience flying out the window.

Christopher knew that she had kissed him in his sleep but had done nothing about it.

All she got in response was a snide remark hinting at her not to do so again.

After that he practically drew the line between the two of them, saying he didn't want an intimate relationship with her much less a friendship.

The unusually pale woman was staring at herself in the mirror, honestly trying to find a flaw in her appearance.

There was no outstanding one other than the lack of colour the common cold brought.

Was it that...

Was it that he wasn't interested in women overall?

Her dejected sigh showed how much the possibility of that affected her terribly. If that was the case, she really would have to stop fishing for a bait which wasn't interested in being devoured. It would simply give her a bad case of indigestion at that point.

She was getting a headache just thinking about it, and that wasn't good because she was already experiencing mild fatigue.

Her body dragged itself out her bedroom and to the kitchen in search of the second round of pills she was supposed to take.

Stupid man and his stupid lips, she cursed before taking them with a large gulp of water.

It was almost comical that only after a slight peck she ended up catching his cold.

While his fever had subsided and he was on the road to full recovery, she had just started the journey.

It was annoying to say the least.

The woman had a pile of work to get done but she couldn't do so because of how weak she was feeling. It didn't make any sense for her to even try and push it. That would only end up making things worse for her health.

With Eddie giving her a list of things to take for the day as well as being kind enough to make breakfast for her, Leslie was left at home, wallowing in self-pity.

Her legs brought her to the couch which she plopped down into after fishing for the remote. She turned on her favorite tv show, Grey's Anatomy, and continued the marathon that she started days before.

During her getting a whiplash now and then from the character's indecisiveness, she received a text.

Her hand reached for the phone beside her to see that it was from her best friend, Eddie.

Remember to take your other round of pills.

She smiled at his little reminder.

I already did.

His response came with a smiley face and a thumbs up before he proceeded to ask about her actions.

So what are you doing right now? Don't tell me I interrupted your sleep? 😟

Her lips twitched.

Actually no, I'm watching another episode of GA.

She didn't have to explain for him to know what it was.

There is no cure for you I swear.

A giggle slipped past her lips and just as she went to type back, the sound of the door bell filled the space.

She looked in the direction of it with heavy suspicion.

Give me a sec. Someone's at the door.

After throwing the phone to the side, she got up with a deep sigh. It annoyed her to move too much in this state to be honest. Her blanket slipped slightly off her shoulders as she looked through the peephole, thinking that it was a delivery guy.

Maybe Eddie had ordered something and forgot it would arrive today, she guessed.

Her eyes widened when she saw that her assumption couldn't have been more wrong.

In a swift action, her hand flicked the lock and swung open the door.

Christopher Wells stood there in all his glory; fidgety and irresolute of his own presence.