10/02/2025
๐๐๐-๐๐๐๐ ๐ฆ๐ง๐ข๐ฅ๐ฌ | ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ'๐ด ๐๐ฐ 31๐ด๐ต ๐ช๐ฏ ๐๐ฆ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ถ๐ข๐ณ๐บ
๐๐ถ๐บ
Every morning, I sit at my desk by the glass door, pretending to focus on my computer. But when she walks in, itโs impossible to look away. The way she movesโconfident yet unassumingโcatches me off guard every time. Her eyes, warm and brown, hold my gaze through the glass door, and in those fleeting moments, it feels like the world shrinks to just the two of us.
I donโt know her name, but I know her routines. She comes in with folders stacked high, her schedule likely packed with meetings and deadlines of project proposals. Sometimes, her things are scattered across the space beside the desk I use, and I canโt help myself. While sheโs off talking to someone at the office, I quietly fix her thingsโaligning her stuff and stacking her papers. Itโs a small act, but it makes me feel closer to her in a way I canโt explain.
One day, she caught me. She returned to find the floor space neat and her things organized, and she looked right at me. I froze, unsure how sheโd react, but then she whispered, โThank you.โ Just two words, soft and sincere, but they stayed with me for hours. I could only nod, too afraid my voice might betray me.
There are other moments, too. For the time we picked and packed treats out of the candy box for an event and sneakily handed out her mini chocolates and candy with โBreak a legโ scribbled on the wrapper. I meant it as a joke, something to make her smile. When she saw it, her eyes like a child's twinkled, she laughed quietly, her shoulders bit shaking, and for the first time, I felt like Iโd truly made her day better.
One eveningโit was a nice time. As we both leave the office, I find myself whispering, โTake care.โ Itโs barely audible, but I hope she hears it. I hope she knows I mean it.
Then came the beach outing. I wasnโt planning on talking to herโI didnโt think Iโd know what to sayโbut when I saw her standing by the shore, silhouetted against the blue of the ocean, I couldnโt stay silent.
๐๐ฒ๐ฟ
Heโs always there, sitting by the glass wall, his intriguing hazel-brown eyes meeting mine every time I walk in. I donโt know how it started, but now it feels inevitable like weโre drawn to each other. Even through the glass door, his gaze holds somethingโan unspoken connection I canโt ignore.
Itโs not just the way he looks at me. Itโs the little things he does. I notice when my things are tidier than I left them, my folders perfectly aligned, and my binders stacked neatly. At first, I thought it was just a coincidence, but then I saw him. His hand hovered over my things, caught mid-motion.
โThank you,โ I whispered, unsure if he heard the gratitude in my voice. He nodded, his lips curling into a faint smile, and I felt something warm settle in my chest. A let out an awkward grin.
Then there were the chocolates & a candy. He sneakily handed me a palm-full of of chocolates and a candy with a simple blue wrapper with โBreak a legโ scribbled on it. To my surprise, it made me laughโreally laughโtriggered by something I hadnโt felt in a very long time. I kept the wrapper, tucking it into my notebook like a keepsake of the small moments that made me feel seen.
At the beach outing, I finally found the courage to speak. The sound of the waves calmed my nerves, and when I saw him standing alone by the water, I walked over.
๐จ๐
Love isnโt always loud or grand. And though neither of us has said the words, we both feel it. On the most random days, itโs in the small things: the way our eyes meet, the quiet โthank yous,โ and the whispered โTake careโ that lingers long after weโve parted ways. Now, even in the office, our glances carry more meaning. The glass door and window no longer feel like barriers but frames for the connection weโve built. Each whisper, each act of service, is a thread in the moment of something unspoken but undeniable.
โขโขโข
Written by Keziah Margarette Herasta
Illustration by Kim Richard Garrido
The Official Student Publication of Cebu Technological University - San Francisco Campus
