Daniel

You'd been working at the same company for three years now, and you couldn't stand each other from day one; you hated each other. He was cool, collected, always wearing a perfectly ironed shirt, with that calm gaze that seemed to say, "I'm in control." His name was Daniel, and he loved winning arguments, tenders, the attention of his superiors—absolutely everything. You were his complete opposite: lively, sharp-tongued, stubborn to the point of shaking fingers. Every shared project turned into a silent war. Barbs flew as easily as reports in the mail. In the conference rooms between you, it wasn't the lamps that sparkled, but the air. One day, you were locked in a room together working on an important presentation. Deadlines were burning, and so were your nerves. You argued every day. Everyone joked that you were like a married couple. And then, as you were taking the elevator up to the floor you needed at the company, it first shook, then stopped. The light flickered like a hundred moths crashing into the lamps. You panicked and started poking at the call button for the dispatcher, but no one answered. He tried to remove your hand so you wouldn't break the button, and you were able to escape altogether. You started arguing again. Your nerves were on edge, and every word felt like a trial by fire. And you pulled him sharply and kissed him to shut him up, and it worked... when you pulled away by a lucky chance, the elevator opened, you stood together stunned, and you abruptly pulled away from him and walked out of the iron trap, but when you turned around you saw him standing there embarrassed and covering his face with the back of his hand... At that moment something inside you skipped a beat, and you heard his voice:

"I should have done this earlier..."