Song: 'Symphony' by Clean Bandit
I'm sorry if it's all too much
Every day you're here, I'm healing
And I was runnin' out of luck
I never thought I'd find this feeling
'Cause I've been hearing symphonies
Before all I heard was silence
A rhapsody for you and me
(A rhapsody for you and me)
And every melody is timeless
And now your song is on repeat
And I'm dancin' on to your heartbeat
And when you're gone, I feel incomplete
So, if you want the truth
I just wanna be part of your symphony
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Symphony
Like a love song on the radio
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
........................................................................
HANNAHâS POV
After taking a relaxing shower and a nap that lasted more than half an hour, I returned to the office again. The news of my panic attack spread like wildfire in the office. When I entered, the amount of attention I received certainly made me uncomfortable. I was asked for the nth time if I was alright or not. I know thereâs nothing to be embarrassed about, but I canât help it, especially in front of the new people that Iâve met just today.
Iâm not someone who enjoys attention; I like to blend into the crowd, an anonymous person. Now, it doesnât mean I donât want people to know about me; I sure do, but as long as Iâm not the center of attention.
I guess all Iâm saying is I HATE ATTENTION!
Did I tell you I hate attention?
Likeâ¦
Shut up, Hans; youâre always babbling when youâre anxious.
âLeave her alone. Back to work, all of you,â came a deep cold, dominating voice of none other than Elijah Alexander Norman, my hero of the day.
Woah! Where did that come from?
I mean, how he rushed to your aid was quite heroic.
I wonât say heroic, but like human decency, you can say.
As per you, he doesnât have any.
Yeah, thatâs true, but given...
Wait a minute, why am I arguing with myself?
Iâm trying to divert my attention from the aftereffects Iâm feeling after my panic attack ordeal and canât say itâs helped much because the direction they are taking is leading to another no-go area.
Him.
I havenât had such a panic attack in years nowâa small hiccup here and there, sure, but an attack of this scaleâI had almost forgotten what it felt like.
Bad.
It feels bad.
Not that I needed a reminder.
This is why I was reluctant to get on it in the first place; Max had already told me about how the insides look dingy so far and the elevators are small and rusty since theyâre temporary.
I shouldâve told him about it when he insisted, but as I said, I was afraid he'd judge me or maybe he wouldn't take me serous.
Hiding it didn't help though because he got to know it anyway, that too in the worst way possible.
But something good came out of it.
Now that Iâm back to my senses and think back to how he handled the situationâhandled meâI have never seen this side of him before.
I canât remember exactly what happened, but I have fragments of it in a blurred memory.
How do I put it? Umm, he was so not like himself; he was different. Whatâs the word Iâm looking for?
Gentle? Suggested my conscience.
Yes! Gentle.
Thatâs it; thatâs the word.
What a strange adjective to associate with the devil himself.
But the devil really came through for me today; the way he took care of me the whole time, how he held on to me with fragility yet with sturdiness, is something thatâs playing on my mind like a broken record because honestly, itâs all a blur.
But what it made me feel is nowhere near being a shadow; itâs as clear as the day.
Secure.
He made me feel secure.
Iâve fought my battles on my own for a long time. My friends have always been there for me on the occasions I'd let them know; I would never take that away from them, but most of the time they didn't know what turmoil I was going through simply because I didn't tell them, I was always so good at fooling them through it. And even if I didn't fool them, they still knew my coping mechanisms.
but here he was, as persistent as one could be
He wasnât only there for me, but he also took charge of the situation where I was no longer able to deal with it.
For others, it might be nothing, but for me, itâs a big thing.
I always try to make the world see how put together my life is on its own, and I always succeed too, but to have someone at your most vulnerable; now's a feeling unknown to me.
It took me 16 years to know how it feels to let someone stand by you and stand for you while you donât have to pretend to be strong and in control.
I donât know why, but itâs churning my heart into twists, swelling it up but in a good way if that makes sense.
I looked up, and in a studio full of people, there was one set of eyes that were already on me.
Eyes that Iâm too familiar with now.
Eyes that drown me in their deep, dark pits.
Eyes that donât give away anything, yet it gets hard to look away from them.
Eyes that race up my heart every time they hold mine.
These dark brown eyes hold the mysteries deeper than the ocean, but when they look at me, I feel exposed.
Eyes that are no longer locked with mine but are now focused a little below them and at my lips.
Eyes that are...
Wait a minute! Stop with your Shakespearean poetry.
My lips?
That doesnât feel right.
I mean, it doesnât feel wrong either.
Itâs a good thing.
No! Thatâs not what I mean.
Itâs not a good thing.
But it feels good.
Hannah, youâre babbling again, and stop chewing on your pen for goodness sake!
Oh, so thatâs what heâs looking at and not at my lips.
You sound disappointed.
I took out the pen instantly and averted my eyes away nervously, unable to look him in the eyes any further.
Nervous because of where your dirty mind was heading?
Ignoring the images that my brain so generously provided, I diverted all my attention to the task at hand and made a report of todayâs progress, of course minus the highlight of the day.
Once I was finished, I took the report to Elijah for his approval, who was now dressed in an entirely different suit than the one in the morning that yours truly ruined but still looking hot as hell.
Calm down, girl; now stop before you start drooling.
Itâs true; of all the things that happened between us, itâs the one aspect about him that Iâve never denied.
What are you denying then?
Man can eat twelve Chris Evans, twenty Hemsworths, Pines, and Pratts for breakfast and still be the sexiest of all in the room.
You might think Iâm exaggerative; trust me, Iâm not.
âDo you need anything?â A husky voice dropped on my ears.
âYouâre a Chris,â I mumbled, lost in my own thoughts.
âWhat?â
âI mean, your signature,â I said as I realized what I'd done. âHere, please sign here.â With the shame of getting caught in my thoughts, I proceeded to put the report in front of him but dropped it instead.
Oh, fuck my luck.
Mumbling a nervous âIâm sorry.' I immediately picked it up and cautiously put it on the table and waited for him to sign so I could vanish from here.
He didnât.
Rather, he looked at me instead with expectation.
Huh?
âPen,â he motioned towards the pen I was holding on to with my life.
Realizing how absentminded I was, I forwarded it to him only to further confirm the degree of my absentmindedness, which had easily reached 100 at this point.
Itâs the same pen that I was chewing on, and its bottom part is now flatter than Tom after an accident, and it has my teeth marks all over it.
âIâll⦠Iâll get you another pen,â I said embarrassingly and was about to retrieve it back when he held the opposite end.
âThis is fine,â looking into my eyes with conviction, he pulled it out of my hand.
He analyzed its state briefly before signing the report, digging me deeper into the earth with embarrassment. Closing the file, he looked back at me, and may God be my witness for thinking this but I think I saw a glimmer of a smirk on his face.
Ah, here comes the aftereffects; Iâve started hallucinating.
If I wasnât standing in front of him, I wouldâve definitely rubbed my eyes for clarity or at least pinched myself.
Putting the daydreaming at the back of my head, I decided to pick up the report and buzz o.
Just as I held it and was to pick it up, he stopped me WITH HIS HAND ON TOP OF MINE!
My heartbeat skyrocketed faster than the Ferrariâs acceleration.
âLet it be.â I nodded in affirmation and snatched my hand away as if his touch burned holes through my body.
But at the same time, my eye caught something.
A glimpse of his hand.
Shit!
He removed his hand quickly and put it out of my sight, but it was already too late.
âI did it, didnât I?â I signaled at his hand which had fresh scratches and nail marks all over it. âIâm sorry, I didnât mean to,â I said, too ashamed of myself.
âDonât bother, itâs alright.â He tried to brush it off, but I couldnât.
âItâs not; itâs all red and scratchy and...â I huffed anxiously.
âI said Iâm okay,â he held my gaze to convince me; his deep orbs held sincerity that calmed me down. âBesides, theyâre not as bad as they look,â he ensured further.
âIâm really sorry, I...â I said again, not ready to let it go as guilt engulfed me.
âBack to work, Hannah,â he cut me off in his throaty authoritative voice, and that finally shut me up.
I moved away from him, yet my mind was still stuck on him. Mindlessly, I went back to my chair that was near his on the elongated table in the studio where everyone was working and brainstorming together.
The image of his bruised hands was stuck in my mind.
Now, I wasn't only guilty but baffled too.
I caused him visible wounds, and he brushed them off, just like that?
Is he the same person who would wreak havoc at the mere sight of my face?
No, heâs not.
Heâs different.
Heâs changed.
Sometimes for better and sometimes for worse.
Lately, itâs for better, I think so.
Iâm not too sure.
How would I ever be sure?
Itâs Elijah Alexander Norman weâre talking about.
But thereâs a slight reform in him if I could say that, or thatâs what Iâve noticed.
At least since that day when he came into my room to apologize.
Heâs been... how do I say this? Heâs trying, sort of.
But trying to what is the question, Iâm unable to pinpoint it.
Sometimes I feel his eyes are following me, noticing my every move, following me around when Iâm not looking.
Why does it sound less romantic and rather stalkish?
But when heâs looking right into my eyes, itâs a feeling I canât explain. His stares send chills down my spine and warm my insides all at once; they communicate words that are impossible for him to say. I often try to avoid eye contact with him because of how restless and troubled I feel after as I can't stop thinking about it; his deep penetrating but impassive eyes make me feel lost in them only to be seen by him. Seen as I am, raw, naked of all that I try to be, found only by him, and wanted as Iâve never been.
Or maybe itâs just me reading too much out of nothing.
As I said, I can never be sure.
You do know. But youâre trying too hard not to.
I nudged aside the reasoning voice inside my head, but it didnât budge one bit.
âHannah to earth,â a hand waved in front of me, catching my attention back to reality. âWhere are you lost? Here, your coffee,â Max asked as he slid a piping hot cup of coffee my way and sat on a chair next to mine.
âThanks,â I mumbled, completely ignoring his question, âHave you made the changes to your report?â I asked instead.
âYes, maâam, printed it out for you to sign too,â he bowed like a royal servant, and I rolled my eyes and smiled.
I checked the report when something caught my eye and completely diverted my attention this time for good.
âSeriously?â Max looked at me in confusion as I asked in amusement, âMaximillian Reagan! What are you? A mafia agent or a high-end escort?â No way Max is short for that.
âWell, Iâm not in the business, but I am open to service,â he reciprocated my silliness with pride, definitely taking it as a compliment.
âFor which service?â I whispered as if it was a secret and it might blow his cover.
âFor whichever one you want me to be,â he leaned forward and winked, making a bad attempt at flirting.
Or maybe it was a good attempt, but I donât have a place for this in my life.
Maybe because that place has already been taken?
âYuck! That was so bad,â I pretended to make a disgusted face.
âHey, come on, it wasnât that bad, not my best though, but I can do better,â he fought for his cheesy pickup line with another.
âQuit it already, Max-imillian.â I deliberately emphasized, âLet me just sign this thing to get you off my back. Whereâs my pen?â I tried to blindly pick it up, but it wasnât there. A realization dawned on me.
On instinct, my eyes went to where it was, or rather, to who had it. Only to find him looking at me already, again.
And boy, he did not look pleased at all.
No, his expressionless face is still not giving away anything to the naked eye, but somehow I can read the unsaid sentiments on his face.
Just admit already, these silent angry stares of his are such a turn-on for you. Hey Hans, whatâs going on down there? *wink wink*
Right now, his stare is a blazing pit of fire toasting the sweet little I, and the oblivious to his merciless stare Max like sâmores.
I didnât have to be a genius to know that this heartwarming stare was a consequence of our overheard conversation.
Well, we deserve it, kinda. Having flirty banter during work hours while the boss is present was a dumb idea to begin with.
It's not ethical and it's not professional!
But why does it feel thereâs more to his intangible frowning?
Am I reading too much into it, or does he look jealous?
No! You donât say. How did you come to that conclusion? Hans, what a genius in making you are!
I have to say my subconscious is being more sarcastic than I am these days.
I looked away as his unblinking, blank, and deeper-than-the-soul stare, made me uncomfortable and pleasant at the same time. I wanted to look back again because I could sense he was still staring, but I resisted the urge.
One of these days Iâll either turn into a statue of salt or a mushy amoeba by his electrocuting, blood-drying glares, I swear.
Hey, wait a minute. Doesn't he always have his own rich-person customized pen tucked in his suit pocket?
I looked back to confirm avoiding his stone-cold eyes at all costs.
And yup, there it was.
How rude, he took mine just to embarrass me?
Oh for Christ's sake, Hannah, get a grip! There's more to his life than to embarrass you. You are capable enough of doing that on your own.
Then why would he keep it and not return?
Uff, how dumb one can be. I'm done with you!
â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦....
Authorâs note:
It seemed like it had been ages since I last wrote Hannahâs POV.
But now, after a while, we got to know whatâs going on in her heart.
Itâs melting, yâall!
It has at least started softening towards him.
His trying isnât going down in vain; itâs penetrating through her heart little by little.
The best thing is that so far he has not deliberately tried to win her over, but one way or another, the circumstances have been a great help to him, and thankfully enough, he wasnât dumb during all these times. Quite frankly, he's nailed all the opportunities.
Though unknowingly, it all worked in his favor.
But this isnât enough; he has to put his foot down and make a conscious decision to win her over.
And in no way would it be an easy task.
I hope youâll enjoy this chapter and shower your loved one with this!
Also, the response on the last chapter is quite disappointing, like guys come on, voting and commenting on a chapter wonât hurt. Be the darlings that you guys are and drop some love on both parts of Chapter 73. You know they deserve itâlots of it.
P.S. If I could go on a limb here, how about you all vote on the previous chapters too? Itâll help the story to a great extent.
Meanwhile, while youâre at it, reread the previous chapters and leave some comments on them too. Nah, too much to ask? I thought so.
Please drop your likes and discuss your favorite parts in the comments; it is literally my favorite part post-update!
If this chapter and the last two parts donât get sufficient love, I wonât drop the next chapter which can be uploaded soon.
Just kidding!
Or am I? ð
Much loveâ¤ï¸