Mind Over Matter: A Request Prompt

2012
A’s Office – Headquarters
Tokyo, Japan

Olsen hummed as he walked around the office, sipping from his paper cup. He didn’t really know why others preferred coffee over tea – tea was much healthier, more energizing than the damned bean water. He tried defending his case to Peters, but the American shot him a look from his own cup of black.

So he scampered away, slightly dejected but amused at the same time. His footsteps slowed to a stop as he reached a familiar lady’s office, and he smiled to himself before knocking.

“Daily reminder to not drink during work,” he sang. Usually, he would receive a snarky reply and he’d laugh as he walked inside to visit her. Those happened on usual days – even if she were swamped with cases.

But she didn’t reply at all. So he knocked once again, and he eventually heard a mumbled answer. Upon stepping inside, the first thing he noticed was the tissues that were discarded quickly.

And her eyes were red around the edges.

“You look awfully sad this morning,” the brunette commented. A blinked and looked up at Olsen, who attempted at a smile as he raised his cup of tea to her. Where he got the tea, she didn’t quite know. “Would you like a cuppa? I can get you some in the shop nearby,” he offered.

A wanted to decline, to tell him that everything was fine.

 Peters poked in his head, smelling of nicotine. The scent of it made her clench her fists under the desk. “Take a break, A. Touta asked me to tell you that.” Olsen studied her worriedly and A sighed loudly, grabbing for her bag and rising from her desk.

“Fine. I’ll go out.” Without waiting for either of the men, she stormed out of her office, leaving the two men flabbergasted on what had just occurred. Narrowing his eyes, Peters turned to Olsen.

“…I don’t understand what’s wrong with her,” the Brit muttered, but Peters merely shook his head.

“Go after her, Sawyer. Best not leave her by herself.”

“Why not you?”

Peters merely shook his head.

“Trust me; she needs someone else right now.”

Without another word, Olsen nodded and ran out as well to catch up with her. Peters could only sigh and closed the door to her office, walking away.

“A! Hold on,” he panted, and was thankful to see her stop before she left the building. Her green eyes watched as Olsen managed to stand back up, he cringing as he clutched his side. “Let me take you somewhere,” he offered, “A drink or some tea or cake. My treat.” She managed a nod. Olsen walked to her and took her arm, gently leading her out.

“Can you really–”

“My treat,” he reiterated firmly.

She merely nodded, soon getting into his car and Olsen following in a fluster.

*****

Olsen wasn’t sure if Peters did him a favor or not.

As he drove to the café and attempted to liven the mood with small talk, he saw that she just wasn’t into it – and that made him falter. Olsen glanced away eventually as he drove, starting to doubt that it wasn’t a good idea at all.

Maybe she did need some time alone.

“I’m sorry for being erratic,” she suddenly said. Olsen blinked and shot a glance at her, seeing her look down at her lap while she spoke. “…today just isn’t a good day.”

“It’s not a problem.”

It was never a problem, he thought after. As long as I help her…it’s not a problem. Not at all.

As he continued driving, he listened to the silence and pursed his lips, hoping that it wasn’t too late.

*****

Olsen liked her in many ways.

She was sarcastic and incredibly enigmatic, someone beyond her years. He could hardly believe that she was able to keep up with them from an early eighteen to nineteen. The Brit wasn’t sure if it was because of her toughness or her independence, the way she rolled her eyes or how her black hair swished as she walked with her hips swaying dangerously.

He was infatuated, found himself staring at her lips then her eyes then her face. When she would catch him, he’d smile goofily and she’d stare blankly for a second before smiling back just as sweetly.

No one knew of that crush – no one at all. Not even Peters, who could snuff out anyone’s secrets. Not even Touta, who could tell if feelings were going array. And most definitely not A. He would be mortified if she found out.

And so Olsen kept his distance and remained what she needed – a friend.

There was a time where she suddenly became happier. And her happiness made him happy. It was infectious, even, come to think of it. She would appear much more relaxed, more at ease. Her hair would constantly be down than up, and he thought she was beautiful.

He didn’t quite know why she was happy, but it didn’t matter as much.

But at the same time, she distanced herself as well. Her teasing became less and less until it remained civil and friendly, the hugs were less intimate and more of how a sibling would embrace his sister or brother. A was still A, of course – but the contact was restricted and he didn’t know how to feel about that. And Olsen missed it.

He missed the punches on the arm and the way she’d sneak him looks of boredom when they were stuck in a meeting together. He missed lightly touching her hand as they groped for weapons or folders, how she’d playfully let her hair hit his face when she tossed it.

He wished he knew why.

On the inside, he had formulated a reason. Mind argued against heart.

Eventually, heart won. But his mind whispered. Don’t blame me if you end up getting hurt.

Olsen looked up at her. There she was, drinking and looking away, still. An hour had passed and in that hour, he had managed to get a lot from her.

“Olsen?”

He managed to look back into those eyes. His heart gave a pained twinge. Despite herself, she smiled at him and touched his hand, sending shocks down his spine. But the more they had contact, the more the twinge was there.

A different kind of pain.

“Thank you. Really.” Her voice became a blur to him. He nodded. “I…I know it’s petty. I’m sorry. It’s my first time to deal with these things and I might have wasted your time with it,” she finished quietly, setting the cup down eventually.

“Don’t apologize,” he chuckled. It was forced. He hoped she didn’t notice. “Trust me. I know the feeling. There’s this girl…”

And she looked at him curiously. Olsen swallowed, feeling his palms dampen.

“…and she’s the most brilliant thing I’ve come across.”

“She’ll adore you,” she told him. She told him this sincerely and squeezed his hand, and he felt all life leave him. He felt as if everything had evacuated him. The man felt like a shell. “And you'll love her back. Just hope.”

I will, he thought.

I always will.