Chapter 3 EPISODE 3

A Tension That Grows

Lois's POV

"Lois," he whispers abruptly, breaking my focus. He speaks in a calm voice, but the way he talks makes my heart race. "How did you get here?"

I stare up at him, shocked for a second. "Excuse me?"

"You've made a lot of progress, haven't you? From your temp work to this place. Why? What makes you keep going?

I stop because the question catches me off guard. He has never asked me anything personal, until today. My mind is racing to find a solution, but I can't seem to get my words in the right order.

"I just do," I finally respond, attempting to sound sure of myself. "I have to make money." It's costly to take care of my sister's health. "I can't afford to stop."

Alex leans back in his chair, crosses his arms, and stares at me the whole time. The way he listens makes me uneasy. He seems to be reading between the lines of what I'm saying, looking for something more.

He asks, "Why do you think you're good at your job?" in a light but stern voice. "What makes you think you can fit in here?"

I can feel the strain in my chest. He's prodding at something I don't want to talk about: my fears and insecurities.

"Because I don't give up," I answer, attempting to seem calmer than I am.

Alex doesn't answer right away; he just looks at me with that calculating look. He is looking for my flaws by researching me. I can sense it, and it's making me uneasy.

"What makes you nervous, Lois?" he says, his voice getting very quiet.

I feel my breath catch when he says something. How does he know? I can't help it; my heart rate goes up. He caught me by surprise.

The silence goes on and on, plucking at the threads of my thoughts. I look down at my desk, and my hands automatically start to fumble with the papers in front of me. Alex's look is like a heavy blanket that is weighing down on me. His eyes are dark and focused on everything I do. It's too much.

"Do you always act this way when you meet new people?" Alex's voice is calm and steady, cutting through the anxiety. It makes my heart race and my nerves go crazy.

"I-I don't know what you mean," I say, trying to pull myself together.

"You've got walls, Lois," he adds in a voice that is just above a whisper. "I can see them. It's okay. That's how I like it.

His comments make my stomach turn, and I'm not sure if they're meant to be a complement or a challenge. My instincts tell me to keep my cool and put up a wall between us, but something about him makes it harder to do that.

I look up and see his eyes for a second. And that's when it happens.

I feel a chill run through me. His look is too strong and too intimate. I feel like his eyes are cutting right through me, and all of a sudden, I can't breathe. It's not just that he's there anymore; it's a force, like gravity dragging me in. I feel like I'm falling apart in front of him, more than I've ever felt with anyone else.

I swiftly glance away without thinking, my heart pounding in my ears. My hands are slippery against the desk's edge.

"You're not used to being watched, are you?" he asks, sounding like he's mocking. I look back up and meet his eyes again.

I think I see something flash in his eyes for a second. It's something I can't read, but it's there and gone in a flash.

I can't get the sense that he is watching me. It feels like every move and every breath is being watched. The sound of my keyboard clacking against the peaceful hum of the workplace feels too loud as I type. The pressure is rising, and my chest is slowly heating up. His presence is always there, a weight I can't get away from.

I look over at Alex's office. I can feel the tension building up all around me, even though he's not there. I attempt to ignore the feeling that others are watching me and focus on my work, but I can't. I can still feel his gaze on me, even if he's not here.

After a few minutes, I take a deep breath to settle down. But then I see a shadow creeping out of the corner of my eye.

Alex.

His body is blocking the light from the hallway as he stands in the doorway. For a moment, he merely watches me with his piercing eyes. I can't read him or figure out what he's thinking. But there is definitely tension between us, and it makes me feel like I'm going to explode.

When he talks, his lips hardly move. "Lois, you're working hard. But are you actually doing work?

The words surprise me, and my heart skips a beat.

I don't know what to say. It feels like I've been caught, that he can see through the mask I've been painstakingly putting on. He's testing me and trying to get me to tell him something I don't want to.

I hurriedly turn aside, but I can still feel his eyes on my back. Every part of me wants to get away, but I can't move. I can't help but wonder whether he knows more about me than I do.

His quiet keeps pushing against me, making it hard to breathe and strong. I can't get away from it. I don't know if I want to.

I look up and see Alex's reflection in the glass door of his office. He is there, looking out the window at the city below. His back is straight, and the suit fits his wide frame wonderfully. Every time I see him, my heart races, and today is no different.

My hands shake when I try to type. I can't get my mind on what I'm doing. All day it's been like this: the tension between us has been getting worse and my feelings have been sliding away. The more I attempt to ignore him, the more he gets to me.

I swallow, but my throat is tight and the air is heavy. It feels like the walls are closing in on me. I feel dizzy, and the desk in front of me seems like it's miles away.

I let go of the pen. The floor is slanting under me.

My heart is beating quickly and unevenly in my ears. My hands are sweaty. I take a deep breath, but it doesn't feel like there's any air. My sight gets narrower.

"Lois."

The voice is calm and low, but it slices through the building panic like a knife.

I look up and see Alex standing in the doorway, his eyes fixed on me. His steps are slow and steady as he crosses the room. He doesn't hurry. He never hurries.

"Lois, take a breath."

His voice is steady, which makes it worse in some way. He isn't freaking out. He is just looking.

His hand comes down on my shoulder-firm and commanding-before I can say anything. The contact sends a shock through me, yet it's also strangely comfortable.

"Just breathe, Lois," he says again, this time more softly. His fingers don't move. The pressure is light but strong, like a rope bringing me back to reality.

I look at the desk and attempt to concentrate. But you can feel the tension in the room; it's thick enough to taste. I can feel the weight of his presence next to me, and the quiet is full of unspoken words.

He doesn't pull away.

He doesn't move his fingers from my shoulder; instead, he observes me. He isn't attempting to console me in the way I thought he would, but nevertheless I feel like he's keeping me in place so I don't slip further away from the earth.

"Do you need anything?" he asks, and his voice is still calm, but there's something else there now. Something I can't quite put my finger on.

I shake my head because I don't know what to say. Even when the air conditioner is on, the room is still too hot for me.

Still waiting for him. The workplace is quiet, and I can feel how much space he takes up and how much he can dominate with just one look or touch.

He gives me a drink of water. "Drink," he urges, and his tone makes it clear that there is no space for dispute.

I take it from him, and the cold glass against my fingertips somehow makes me feel more grounded.

He takes a step back, but I can still feel him there, like a shadow over me. I'm not sure if I'm grateful for the quiet or scared of it.

He calmly observes me while I drink, his eyes narrowing just a little. It's like he's watching me and knowing everything about me in ways I don't get.

"Don't say anything," he adds all of a sudden, his voice getting sharper. "Just breathe."

The words land over me, heavy and final, and I can't speak. I'm stuck between the need to fight and the overwhelming want to give in to whatever it is he's offering.