(Please, save me some space, I forgot to tell about progress here. I will try to post more snippets here.)
“My interest isn’t personal,” you lied, and through your dry throat it sounded worse than weak.
“Of course not,” he smirked, leaning slightly toward you once more. “I’ll tell you, but...”
You held your breath. His chest pressed against yours. His face was next to your head, on the same side where he’d brushed your hair back earlier. The bastard had planned it all — he’d even anticipated your curiosity. He was teasing you, and you were too weak to resist when his cheek was almost touching yours.
“But?” you asked, your voice wavering.
Silco laughed softly and low, his breath tickling your earlobe.
“You owe me,” he whispered suggestively, in a tone that made your knees go weak.
The sound, like an echo coming from the far end of the hallway and slowly growing louder, began to ring in your ears. And you started to be painfully aware of every single detail.
His breath was warm on your skin. Beneath the layer of cologne, you could smell a faint scent of smoke. No, not from cigars or cigarettes — the smell from outside, because the air was never clean. A hint of laundry detergent mingled with the freshness of his skin. A scent of tobacco, whiskey, and cologne always hung around him. Sometimes coffee. That’s why, catching those clean notes, you felt like a starving dog that had picked up a trail.
“I owe you… what?” you asked quietly.
Silco chuckled low and throaty. If you’d turned your face even slightly toward him, your lips would have brushed his cheek. That’s why you kept your gaze fixed on the darkening sky outside the window, not daring to move an inch.
No one asked, but I’m gonna show ya anyway. This is how I planned chapter 83 of The Skeptic, which is essentially a 7.5k words-long fight scene.
Contains spoilers for that chapter under the cut, but as you can see, it’s less step-by-step and more just some reminders to what needs to happen to move the plot forward in a somewhat chrononolgical order.
This chapter is a real treat for me. Because of the pace I’ve set, plus the fact that these two have finally started talking to each other.
Their communication used to be all about passing information. A one-way street instead of a two-way conversation. He gave orders — you followed them. These are small details, but if one looks at it the way I do, they will see how their conversational style is changing. You — the MC — are no longer running away from dialogue but facing it head-on. With continued respect for your boss and curiosity, because you’re finally starting to see him as a person who stirs emotions in you that you didn’t expect — concern.
“You’re doing... what?” you stammered, unable to hide the tension in your voice.
Silco raised his eyebrows, seemingly a bit taken aback by your reaction.
“You heard me,” he replied, unperturbed. “Come on, don’t be so freaked out. You didn’t miss anything; I hadn’t planned on sharing this news yet.”
It all made sense. Of course it did — after all, he’d planned it, and Silco was always one step ahead of everyone else. The fact that you’d lost your composure so easily didn’t sit well with you.
“Well, um…” you cleared your throat, trying to hide your reaction. “So…”
You had no freaking idea what to ask, whether you even had the right to ask questions, or maybe you should just shut up already.
“It’s satisfying to watch you squirm,” he smirked. “Always so composed, and here you are — one piece of unscheduled information and you lose your head. I’ll let you off the hook this one time.”
You closed your eyes for a long second and let the air out slowly through your nose. Mentally, you slapped yourself for the fact that his tone, his posture — his voice — instead of offending you, made you want to get closer.
That couldn’t be healthy.
“I know I shouldn’t have pressed for details so soon,” you finally replied. “Still, I appreciate you tell me.”
“You’re welcome,” he nodded slightly, without a hint of a smile. The atmosphere suddenly grew heavier, but not tense. “Since you know anyway, I’ll need you to prepare a few documents and listings.
You straightened your back, ready to work, even now that the day was drawing to a close. Silco was tired; you could see it in every shadow and crease on his face.
“Of course, which ones?”
“Your enthusiasm is charming, but not right now,” he waved his hand dismissively in the air. “This isn’t a one-day job. Transferring everything that’s been created here, including the archives and servers, will take at least a few weeks. As if I didn’t have enough work already.”
Silco turned away from you, speaking more to himself now. You didn’t like how heavily his own work weighed on him. His usually upright posture now seemed somehow… slumped. His exhaustion made it harder for you to breathe. You avoided looking at him not because he repelled you, but because every time you saw the shadows under his eyes, something tightened in your chest. Like that day when everything escalated.
Yeah, keep barking, dog, you scolded yourself, hearing that zeal in your own voice. But no amount of comments about your loyalty could push aside that nagging pang every time the shadows under Silco’s eyes grew a little deeper.
(Secretary. Chapter XII - Approval)
No, not exactly progress, since it’s just one paragraph. But I liked it — like when I write something without thinking — and I get obsessed with a fictional character.
That’s how I feel sometimes. Like a little dog waiting for praise. And no, don’t try to convince me that it’s not healthy. I’m exactly where I wanted to be.
