I walked through the rain for you, you said to "go home"

He's brought her a coffee to her desk, asks her if she's okay. "Thanks, I'm alright," she shrugs, trying to smile reassuringly despite her hollow answer. His face falls a bit, before he forces a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. And that's how she knows her attempt at a smile was failed, probably looked more like a frown. It makes her stomach churn with something. His soft stare feels piercing, as if he can look right through her, so she turns back to her computer, trying to ignore the shake in her hands as she tries her best to finish typing up a report. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see his hand halter mid-air, like he wanted to touch her, but suddenly changed his mind. She forces herself to focus on the computer screen, where she's written "fuck" repeatedly, but it's not like anyone else will see. It doesn't occur to her that she was holding her breath, before she can hear the sound of the door being closed a minute later and she breathes out in relief. She looks up to an empty office and wills her eyes to stay dry.