Blackbirds

Incredibly, his hand landed on her shoulder, and he gathered her into his arms.

"Why shouldn't it be me?" she wept into the softness of his shirt. It galled her that the heat of his skin was but the thickness of a layer of cotton fabric away. Even in her distress she could not help but notice how wonderful he smelled.

"I'd like to think you felt you could, Hannah."

Damn the man, could he get any more perfect?

***

Valentine's Day came and went without any more intelligence on the author of the card on his desk. He left it though. Partly to irritate Sylvia and yet mostly because he liked it. He was unaware that its continued presence gave its author considerable and unexpected hope. She'd initially drawn it almost as a private joke, to see if a chink could be found in his armour. A time went on and she found that it continued to occupy a prominent place on his desk, a terrible hope started to flower in her breast.

***

Leaving work one afternoon there was a bit a press for the lift. He managed to squeeze in and found himself standing very close to Janice Parker.

She grinned at him as he attempted gallantly not to invade her personal space too badly. However, in his shuffling, he noticed the little black brooch on the lapel of her jacket. It had a thin triangle of yellow stone inset at one edge and an equally tiny diamond just above and behind it.

His eyes drifted up to where she watched him with a slight smile on her face, her dark brown eyes dancing.

***