11. 11 #3
“I can’t sleep yet, the sun is still out,” he argued.
“The sun doesn’t set here.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s a bummer.”
“So,” I said. “Close your eyes and go to sleep.”
“Are you going to run off with Misha?”
“Absolutely not. I’m going to sit at this desk and read.”
He looked between me and the desk. “I’ll just watch you until I’m tired.”
“That’s fine.” I moved to get up, but Elias didn’t let go of my hand.
“Can I get a goodnight kiss?”
I hadn’t expected him to be chaste, but he was. A light peck and he let me go.
I sat at the desk, unsure if I wanted to start with Dr. Fassi's file or the load of documents on the computer. I hit the enter key on the laptop and it wasn't logged in.
“Elias?” I called, hoping he was still awake.
“Yeah?”
“What's the login for the computer?”
“User is ‘e dot correa’ and the password is ‘cassie69.’ Nothing is capitalized.” He said it so calmly, like he wasn't aware how silly it was.
“Oh, my god. That is your password on a government device?”
His breathing was even, unfazed. “Yeah.”
I shook my head in an attempt to focus, but I had a hard time not imagining what other easy-to-hack passwords he used.
“You're funny,” I murmured.
I read through the translated reports for a few hours, glancing occasionally at Elias to see if he'd fallen asleep.
He lasted longer than I would have. I didn't hear him snoring for at least forty-five minutes after I'd sat down.
Following my conversation with Dr. Novikov, none of my reading felt particularly enlightening.
I gave up around ten, once again ignoring the hunger gnawing at my stomach.
The day had been a whirlwind, start to finish, and I hadn't taken the time to eat. Elias might have, and I hoped he did with how much he’d drank, but I had some dry bread and nothing else.
I promised myself a good breakfast and looked over at Elias, who had politely turned toward the wall before he passed out, leaving me enough room to crawl in behind him when I was ready.
I wasn't going to be able to sleep easily.
I took a swig of the abandoned bottle of vodka and it nearly came out of my nose, the cheap spirit imitating rubbing alcohol.
On a normal night, a noise like that would stir Elias, but he couldn't be as alert as he normally was after the amount of liquor he consumed.
I hit the bottle again, prepared for the taste. The warmth spread from my tongue to my belly.
Curious to see what Elias had sent himself, I reached for my phone and opened our text messages.
He wasn't kidding, he'd sent so many photos.
I scrolled to the beginning to see where he started.
The first group he'd sent were all photos of the two of us: photo ops on dates, selfies from the couch.
My mom asked for photos of us frequently, so the majority of them were taken on a whim in our house.
Next he sent himself photos that I had taken of him. A photo of him shaving in his underwear. A shot I took of him sleeping on the couch in the most uncomfortable position imaginable. They were snapshots of our life together that I had kept to myself. He probably had never seen them before.
Of course, to finish the massive send-off, was a ton of pictures of just me. Selfies I'd taken, group photos at work and school events, all sent in a neat line. The very last photo, one that I had already sent to him months ago, was the photo my mother had taken of us the first night they met.
I turned my phone off and set it on the desk, unable to stop the smile forming on my face.
It wasn't a surprise that he loved me, but in my head I imagined a grand gesture, or that he would blurt it out over dinner after I told a good joke.
I was disappointed that what I felt should have been a big moment was taken from me, but life had always subverted my expectations when it came to him.
I never imagined I'd get roped into working for a government agency that didn't exist, or that I'd fall for a guy that pretended to be a janitor, only for that guy to blow off my coworker's head.
We were almost killed multiple times in the first few days we spent together.
Despite his shortcomings, of which there were few outside of his career, on paper he was my perfect match.
He was kind, attentive, and patient, not to mention an excellent lover.
He cared more about me than anyone ever had.
I mean, he had a bad day, got wasted beyond belief, then just looked at pictures of us on my phone when I was only down the hall.
After politely trying to shove his face between my legs, he confessed his love for me.
Elias had to be the most innocent drunk I'd ever encountered.
The past day had exposed some of his insecurities, mainly the notion that he didn't feel like he was good enough to hold onto me, and we'd have to talk about that.
For the time being, I would try to shove what happened deep down inside of me until we were home, but fail and bring it all up immediately anyway.
Business as usual.