A cold refrigerant floods the room, beginning to rise up my legs until it reaches the back of my neck, settling there. Nothing changes in Samuel's expression, who continues to look at me with his head slightly tilted, waiting for an answer from me when the truth is that I have no idea what exactly I should say. The pang of icy air continues to make itself felt on the back of my neck, producing chills that run through my entire body, making me shudder. I begin to think that it is my nerves or that maybe I really feel bad and all I do is ignore myself, a detail that could save me. If I fainted right now, I would skip the obligation of having to answer something to the person in front of me. The idea terrifies me, forcing me to think: Since when did I become like this?
Samuel: Do you regret it or not?
He questions again in a more insistent tone, raising his eyebrows above his eyes, which reveal the nerves that accumulate inside him, also revealing something similar to fear, although it may just be my nonsense. Anyway, he seems to be more sure of himself than I am. I lower my eyes to his mouth and shake my head horizontally, denying myself.
Samuel: You don't seem very convinced.
He comments something sad and when I look up I also notice some disappointment on his face.
May: Are you in love with me?
I ask looking at him dumbfounded, having managed to question what he wanted most since I heard his first words. Regret is a detail that does not interest me in the least, since I know perfectly well that regret is the last thing that could happen to me when I remember what happened a day ago. In fact, I don't remember ever feeling so much adrenaline together in my 18 years of life.
Samuel: How you love to make me talk.
May: Well ... it's not something they tell me every day.
Samuel (snorts): It's not something I say to just anyone.
A strange sound similar to a sneeze startles me and I look around, unable to see anything at all, or anyone.
May: And that?
Samuel: It must be a maid or something.
May: I would have to go.
I say hugging myself for the cold I still feel on my skin. I start to walk away towards the door where they all left a few minutes ago.
Samuel: I don't believe you (he says behind my back).
May (I turn around): What? (I ask raising an eyebrow, oblivious).
Samuel: The thing from before. Are you going to tell me that no one proposed to you? (He says approaching).
May: Nothing that mattered to me.
Samuel: So you care about me.
He expresses proud of himself, hiding a lock of hair behind my ear. I give a superior chuckle.
May: If that makes you feel better ...
He laughs and comes closer to me, about to touch our lips.
May: You can see us Samuel.
Samuel: Shh. They're already gone.
He adds to bring his hands to my cheekbones and end the void that remains between us. The position of her arms prevents me from encircling her neck with mine, so I bring one of my hands behind her back, pinning her there, while the other resides on her chest, witnessing her heartbeat.
- Touché!
I give a sharp shove to Samuel's chest, pushing him away from me and I search with my gaze from which corner of the room the voice I just heard comes from. I can't see anything besides the blinding darkness of the room, which is extinguished only near the area of the door that allows entry from the hall, whose lights are still on. I hear a kind of mocking laugh, the sound of two or three steps, a click and the lights come on, illuminating even the tiniest corner of the room. I open my eyes, which I instinctively closed when the light was present, forcing them in such a way that it amazes me that I don't feel pain now.
- Now I understand why you didn't want him fired.
He adds and that's when I see his face, smiling at me with a victorious look, as if he had discovered the most captivating secret that could exist.