Quiet Company

[Hotel Rooftop – Late Night]

Tap. Tap.

Elias looked up from his laptop. Adeline stood by the terrace door, barefoot, hoodie over her tank top, hair still damp from a shower.

He blinked. "Is something wrong?"

"Couldn't sleep," she said. "Thought I'd find somewhere quiet."

He gestured to the opposite chair. "There's space."

She sat without a word, legs crossed, eyes tired.

"Work bothering you?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Family."

"Ah."

"Received a call from my father," she supplemented drably. "Told me I'd be out on the street."

Elias shut his laptop. "And will you?"

"No." She looked at him. "Would you let that happen?"

He didn't respond immediately.

"I don't waste my time training people I intend to leave behind."

Her lip wiggled. "That was nearly. nice."

"Don't spread rumors."

She breathed out, voice softer. "You ever get fed up with acting like you don't care?"

"Ever get sick of waiting for someone to?" 

They regarded each other—things unsaid and silent zapping back and forth between them like lightning.

Then he said, "You're doing better than you think."

"You don't even know me."

"I pay attention to more than you think." 

She gazed away, then back. "Thank you."

He didn't say you're welcome. He just stood there.

"Go rest. Big day tomorrow."

Walking by her, she whispered softly, "Mr. Elias."

He stopped.

She smiled weakly. "I think you care more than you admit."

He didn't turn around, but his voice was slightly softer when he spoke.

"Go to bed, Adeline."