Jeez, well, this is awkward.

As I continued to trudge along the path of unfinished thoughts my mind conjured, an uneasy stillness covered the inside of the metallic white vehicle I currently found myself in. My face lay planted on my open hand as a haze enveloped the window I gazed upon, slowly obstructing the blue-tinted surroundings. At the moment, clouds of deeper colors accumulated in the sky above, heralding a hail of heaven-bound liquid to accompany the barrage of information I had received earlier. Gone was the blinding incandescence of the sun that once shone a light on secrets kept concealed, remaining only a dreary reminder of how lost I truly am. With my questions and newly uncovered revelations, I was bouncing along with my reflections in an unsteady rhythm, much unlike the faint whir of the engine and steadily increasing tick-tack of water droplets landing on the windshield. I let out a quiet breath, condensing a small spot on the translucent glass. The car's air-conditioning was still on as the weather changed too quickly for us to adapt, resulting in a freezing veil blanketing over me. However, none of these cold observations could even compare to the actual source of the frigid ambiance that set the stage for my rumination. Peacefully beside me sat a young woman with an unyielding and emotionless gaze striking forward. Perhaps she was in deep thought, as her characteristic silence felt uncharacteristically tense. From the time of departure until now, I couldn't utter a word, the metallic cage forcing me to confront her with incomplete thoughts and an empty voice. Questions of her past and queries of her motivations all continued lingering inside of me. But most importantly, a light tinge of sympathy coated all of my introspections as if she harbored something I could understand.

I don't know how long she's been keeping God knows what thoughts and ideas to herself, how those could've changed her, and how it all stemmed from something no single person can be deemed responsible for,

I weighed my options, considered my words, and mustered the courage to inquire about even a sliver of information. I breathed a heavy puff of the chilly air as I compiled my intangible thoughts into a form the cold woman could hear.

"Look, if you have something on your mind, I'm not opposed to liste-"

A drawn-out and oh-so-familiar sigh drowned out my reluctant voice, freezing me in place.

"If you plan to hold a conversation regarding my past work on your case, it'd be best you erased that thought." A cold, apathetic voice replied to my incomplete proposition.

"After all," she continued, "I barely know you, so please, spare me your pity." Those words resonated in my head, echoing through the different facets of my mind. There it found its mark. Those words mirrored my indecisive replies to Alexandre. Neither Myla nor I understood much about each other. Our relationship has always been one filled with distrust and contradicting beliefs. And I wonder if the circumstances that preceded my offer put her on edge. Still, for some reason, it struck a chord in me. I didn't know if it was because I only found myself asking these questions about my partner now. Or if it stemmed from her sudden refusal that disregarded my feelings of hesitance and concern. I knew not to become aggravated. I had to keep my cool and think of a different approach, but her insensible response continued to bother me. At times like this, it's hard not to let slip words lined with bitterness. I closed my eyes as I considered the consequences of my following comments before facing my partner with an irritated expression.

"Is that so? Let me change what I was going to say then. I'd prefer if you didn't get so upset by a relationship you barely had a hand in." I stated in a stern and callous manner, echoing my partner's earlier reply. While harsh, it seemed to have reached her, the firm gaze she once had faltering for a second to glance at me with a surprised look. The car slowed its speed - the raindrops increasing in volume as the tick-tack dominated my ears. I knew this was my chance not to engrave more contempt between us. But to bridge the invisible gap, I only now realized separates us.

"If anything, I'm the most qualified person to tell you that it shouldn't bother you anymore," I said in a warm tone prompting her eyes to shift towards me slightly. I resumed, noticing she was keen to continue listening even after my blunt remark.

"I don't want you to think what I'm saying is out of pity or that I want to console you on a matter that happened a while ago now. But I can tell you that I can still vividly remember those feelings of regret and hopelessness." Her gaze remained undisturbed, but the subtle turn of her head to better listen encouraged me to persist.

"But, now," my tone weakened, but I knew not to stutter, "I'm well past blaming any one person, event, or hell, even entity. If I can have the privilege of saying I understand at least one thing about you - it's the idea of spending days on end thinking about how everything could've been better and eventually sinking into thoughts of looking for something - anything to blame. Forgive me for being presumptuous. But, I think we both came to understand how narrow that mindset is and how in reality, what happened is so much more complicated than one person dooming the relationship." I stated with a nostalgic and subdued tone, my partner's eyes now ever-so-slightly facing me. Perhaps at the very least, I was now in her peripherals.

"And most importantly, I don't want anyone else to go through that. The thought of someone experiencing that period in my life hurts me more than the split itself, especially someone who holds so much less accountability than me." I finished, a reassuring smile covering my expression. My partner remained quiet throughout. I couldn't be sure that she was listening, but even the idea of it allowed me to continue speaking. The cool mantle that shrouded my body came into focus. And so too did the soft howl of the air conditioning's gusts as I took in the somber hues of the landscape, preparing my final piece.

"Which is why even if you don't tell me anything about yourself, all I ask is that you don't tumble into the same pitfall I found myself in. Getting hung up over the past and blaming yourself sounds pretty out of character for both of us. So-" I pivoted to face my partner more directly, the fair yet emotionless visage she bore beaming in the foggy scenery. Her cold eyes were now visibly attentive to me as I concluded my statements.

"I don't want you, or - really, anyone," I stopped myself briefly as I minced my words slightly, "to blame themselves for what happened to Amanda and me. So, while I'm not sure if I'm in the position to ask you for this, please don't blame yourself for it." I ended my request with a warm smile, burning through the cold aura that engulfed the metal cage my partner and I found ourselves in. Myla's face lay still for a moment, her reply arriving in an unemotional silence as the background noise of the rainy day was all that entered my ears. The silence slowly faded into white noise as a hint of nervous panic entered my system.

Uh oh, did I say too much? Oh God is this what they meant by oversharing. I knew I should've just kept my mouth shut. I had to go ahead and get carried by the mood. Why am I such an idiot, holy-

Before I could curse myself anymore, however, a familiar tone reached me.

"If all you wanted to tell me was to avoid blaming myself, then," Myla paused as the car slowed down more, the impacts of the rain and soft engine whir disappearing as I heard the cold and elegant voice of my dear partner pierce through the frigid ambiance.

"Then don't be so worried. I gave up on accusing myself long ago as I found someone else to blame, you." Myla faced me with a minute and almost unnoticeable smirk, which, as small as it was, was a massive contrast from her usual array of expressions. The disparity between her mood and the difference in the temperature made my face heat up slightly. The warm look she showed me elicited emotions I thought impossible for her to evoke.

I guess they were right after all. I should've considered an appointment with the therapists back at base.

I jokingly told myself in an attempt to return to my composed state as Myla unexpectedly resumed.

"It does surprise, however. I didn't anticipate you to open up about such subjects. I thought it would be in your nature to avoid speaking about those with me." Her gaze returned to the road, but the air felt warmer, perhaps even cozy. I mulled over her words, thinking about an explanation for her curiousness.

"Well, I guess it wraps back to the fact that we do know so little about each other," I answered back, an intrigued look covering my dear partner's face.

"Well, think of it like when you get to talk with a random person on the internet. Neither of you knows anything about each other. But that same sense of unfamiliarity allows you to be open about personal topics. It's not like you have the full context or any actual relationship, so something like that, I guess." I finished my answer, to which she pondered for a moment before letting out a short, satisfied Hm. I continued reflecting on it and realized that there was a bit more to it than just that. A relationship usually comes with expectations or even standards. It didn't matter if it was one between family, lovers, colleagues, or even friends. Boundaries and presumptions will always exist. It doesn't matter if you openly talk about them; they'll always be there. In that, I wondered if the relationship Myla and I had was different. From the start, we'd been at odds with each other, meaning we already had few - if any expectations. We could fight, bicker, and tease each other - but also have moments of genuine understanding, and for that, I'm grateful. We might not be friends and were practically only colleagues by name, but this kind of connection was fun in its own way. While I was concluding my introspection, I felt a slight shift beside me as the transmission changed to match the rainy weather. I put my warm hands up to the front panel and adjusted the air conditioning's temperature. Though it seemed my action to increase the vehicle's temperature was for naught as a cold voice filled the car.

"Although, now might not be the time. Perhaps one day, I'll be able to repay your openness with my own. It's best not to count on it, though." My dear partner expressed, a voice as cool as ice but with a tone as warm as the sun hidden behind the heavy clouds. While I didn't have my hopes up, and I'd find it strange if I did, it was comforting to know that she accepted my kindness and considered one day repaying it. I didn't do it for any kind of reciprocation - of course not. I only did it to make sure my goal of keeping my promise didn't result in me overlooking someone else who could've possibly been just like me - frustrated, lost, and blinded by events that you couldn't sum up with a single reason. My reflections were then interrupted by a high-pitched chime resonating from my pocket. It was a text message from a kind young fellow detailing a pleasant piece of news.

"What is it?" Myla asked, throwing a quick glance at me.

"Ah, it's from Alexandre. Apparently, since today's my monthsary, they changed the schedule up a bit and gave us the morning to be free. So we could celebrate the good work." I replied with a smug expression, drawing out a quick sigh from my dear partner as I did.

"How generous of them, though I wonder how much of this was decided by Alexandre," Myla questioned, exasperation far clearer in her voice than the still drizzling atmosphere.

It pays to have friends in high places, after all.

"Well, it's best not to look a gift horse in the mouth, so, now what?" I replied hospitably, facing ahead at the bright sheen the wet road had taken.

"We have about four hours to decide. Anywhere in the city's reach is an option." My dear partner stated, not wanting the responsibility of choosing. In a situation like those with friends, she determined the "I don't really want to pick anything, but here are the choices, so you decide" way of answering was the best. I wondered for a moment before throwing back the choice with an unspecific reply.

"Anywhere, huh? You're driving, and you seem to know the lay of the land, so you decide." She took one of her slender arms away from the steering wheel to place it under her chin in thought before her mouth opened agape narrowly.

"You've brought it up quite often over the month. How does a Starbucks sound?" Myla offered with eyebrows raised high, almost teasingly as she did.

Well, crap, how do I put this?

"Actually, to be honest with you. I've never ordered or even stepped into one before." I answered nervously, causing the vehicle to slow down suddenly on the slick road.

"Woah! I appreciate not going for your usual full stop, but this isn't the time t-" I stopped seeing my dear partner's bewildered expression.

"Seriously?" She asked, a tone both stunned and reserved emanating from her. I could see in her face that - while still collected, was by far the most emotion she had shown today.

Hey, don't act even more surprised than when I opened up. C'mon, you're making me feel bad.

I told myself as my face turned to an exasperated mood, wondering just how much of a surprise it was to her. She once more took one of her hands off the wheel to cover her mouth, and I could hear an incredibly muted release of air, just barely audible enough to be called a laugh.

I guess we have a few expectations of each other. I didn't think they'd be this, though.

My dear partner then faced me with a brief exhale and a stern expression before finishing.

"Then it's decided. We'll take the morning off at a cafe." She stated as the car slowly picked up speed, the gray skies still accompanying us as I enjoyed the comfort of the warm cage I found myself in - carrying a clear and content conscience. I laid my head on one of my open hands, enjoying the passing scenery before me. It was one that I would only become more acquainted with as I continued both my work and my promise. An idea I happily entertained as I took a glance at the cold yet familiar individual I called my partner.