Quiet is the new loud

"This term is probably my laziest term," an overslept Zet declared.

"Bad, bad," I answered. "Is it the romance, or the workload?"

"No," she answered. "I've had the romance since last term. It's just the season and the courses."

She casts a glare at research class, which she had to retake and is now trying hard to pass. I assured her she won't drop it because nobody drops a subject twice, at least to my knowledge.

"Last term pa nga, but it mellows things down as you go further," I said. "Unless someone uproots it."

I was in an extraordinarily airy office, marked with a lack of people on my right side.

"No wonder I am so productive," I said.

"Nako ah," she laughed.

"Whaaat?" I went. "You're reading between the lines!"

"No, I'm nooot," she insisted.

"But what are you implying?"

"Nothing," she said. "I'm not implying anything."

"But..." and I was at a loss for words. The conversation continued, with me pushing her need to snap herself out of oversleeping, but I continued typing the articles I was assigned to do for the day. Maybe I was just being cute, but who knows? I just typed between windows, with the thought of me going back to how things are at the back of my head.

Things did go to normal at the fifteenth floor. Silence for ten hours, broken only at the end of the shift, when I decided to make my fingers work, and in exchange take a glance at the things I don't usually take a glance of. Then you wonder why goodbye has to be so hard.

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