"Good morning." It is one of those days. You greeted me, I greeted you.

Why is it so hard for me to greet you first? I’m dumbfounded as to why I couldn't speak with clarity when you are around.

I would pretend to be looking anywhere but you every time you pass by. But my eyes would chase after your retreating back without fail.

I get flustered when someone mentions your name. I turn beetroot when you talk to me. I mess up my work when you are in the same room with me.

I'm torn between not wanting you to be around and hoping you stay a little longer when you leave.

I can't explain it. You make me nervous.

XMAS Party. Last day of work. Long vacation, 3 weeks of no demanding customers on the phone, threads and threads of email to answer and endless talks with managers who pretends to ask a question but already has answers in mind and only shares so they can force you to agree with them in the end. Yes, vacation, pure bliss.

A buffet style of food lined up near the glass walls of the room. Refreshments next to it, most of which is liquor that nobody wants to admit is what they really came for. Free drinks after all.
 

A karaoke machine situated at the far corner of the room, two already trying their best rendition of Celine Dione’s All by Myself, its speakers proven to be fine and working perfectly. The neighbors are not too happy about it.

Everyone seemed to settle into little groups and are enjoying themselves, hours of games, delicious food and overflowing liquor, the party went on.

 

They don't call it liquid courage for nothing, and so I got comfortable being with you at the same space at the same time. Only a few feet away and I can see you clearly. You are drinking and talking to a guy from the office and you are having a good time. It was fleeting yet not unnoticed; a tap to his shoulder, a touch to your arm. My throat felt dry.

 

I grab a bottle from the closest table and took a sip as I watched you from the corner of my eye. He said something but because the music is too loud you gestured for him to say again. He inched closer to your ear and whispered something funny, it must be, because you were laughing with your head flung back. Whatever it is, it earned him a hug from you.

 

He took your wrist and that surprised you, I know from the slight jolt and that crooked smile on your lips. He must be feeling lucky because of the hug you gave him, lucky and bold, he didn't let go of your wrist and dragged you into a corner, to tell more interesting jokes maybe, or if I'm being honest, to get you alone.

 

I get attuned to what's happening with you and around you, and for some reason I can hear alarm bells ringing in my head as he keeps talking to you. He seemed to gain a liking to your shoulders as he keeps touching it, staying for more than a second sometimes. I'm not sure if you are just too polite to swat his hand away or your reflexes are slow due to the booze you consumed and still consuming. He keeps on giving you drinks, I notice.

 

You moved to go back to the group but he side-hugged you. There's discomfort and annoyance over your face as you try to remove his hand on your shoulder, but being inebriated and a halfwit, this only encouraged him to pull you even closer.

 

Something came over m