When We Were Young (25)

stood there in shock, holding onto my purse tightly. The elevator had come to a halted stop nowhere near where it was supposed to. The doors remained shut and the room was loudly quiet.

The fact that the elevator might be going through a systematic glitch was apparent in my mind. However, my eyes still hadn't blinked in blinded shock.

"There must be something wrong with the system," a voice indulged in gruff deepness spoke, wedging me out of my thoughts.

I immediately turned my attention from the doors to where the voice came from. A man dressed in a dark navy suit stood before me; his physique exerted a sophisticated aura that was wrapped in an inviting pull.

I knew him from somewhere.

But where?

There was a sense of familiarity in his smile and I racked my mind to remember from where this feeling came.

"Let's hope," I nodded, peeling my thoughts from a memory that doesn't seem to exist. "Maybe I should've taken the stairs."

His smile widened. "You wanted to take the stairs for twelve stories?"

"How do you know that's where I was going?"

"Well," he shrugged, "I'd love to woo you by saying I read your mind, but," he pointed to the dashboard, "the only lit numbers are twelve and fourteen. And since I'm going to floor fourteen, that leaves twelve for you, love."

I could feel shame making itself visible in my cheeks, and I shook my head, as if that'd make the obvious disappear. "Ah, my apologies."

"Don't worry about it," he shrugged, "it's not every day a beautiful lady accuses me of stalking her."

"What-" I stopped short in my defense, realizing it was pointless. "Let me extend a tangent line then, I'm Adele."

He smiled. "Harold."

There it was again. This strike of familiarity in his eyes when he smiled. I couldn't help be feel comforted, as if I'd gotten a glimpse of home.

How odd.

"Harold, huh?"

"Yeah," he tilted his head momentarily as a gesture, "it's an old name."

"That's not a bad thing," I countered, "If it's old and still being used, it means it holds great power."

He weighed my statement for a while before looking up to smile once more. "I suppose." He then looked around, his eyes falling to stare at the doors for a bit longer before they returned to me. "Let's sit, shall we? They're not opening these doors anytime soon."

I nodded, following his motions. I sat adjacent from where he sat, allowing our shoulders to barely touch.

"How long do you think it'll take them to open the doors?" I asked after a moment of silence that held no discomfort, to my surprise.

He shrugged. "I wish I knew. Soon, I hope." He turned to look at me, titling his gaze. "Are you in a hurry?"

"Aren't we all?" I almost laughed.

"Hmm, not me."

"Really?"

"Mh-hmm."

"So then what are you doing here, writing your grocery list?" I easily jabbed with a teasing smile that held no weight.

He laughed loudly at that. "I believe that matter is confidential dear Adele."

My eyebrows arched in surprise. "Dear Adele?"

He nodded. "Problem?"

"I guess not."

"You guess not?" He smiled in a taunting fashion.

And I almost blushed in ridicule, but caught myself. "You, sir, are a tease."

He raised his eyebrows in question. "Am I?"

"I believe that's what I just said."

"Well, I'll have you know that I'm not much of a tease," he said, his body relaxing against the wall.

"And how would you know that?"

He turned to stare at me, he seemed amused. "Because I've been told that I'm the most serious man to ever walk on Earth countless times."

"Hmm. I don't know what side of your personality you're showing those people, but that's not the side you've shown me so far," I said, returning his stare.

A light smirk lit his face. "And what are your observations?"

"That you're a tease," I quickly responded, not wanting to keep staring at his lips for longer than appropriate.

"Well, that's not fair, you've only known me for ten minutes, at most," he laughed, his defense not as strong as it should've been. A stranger was commenting on who he was; what am I doing?

At last, I laughed along with him, shaking my head as I clasped my hands in between my thighs. "I guess you're right. I'm sorry."

"Nah, don't apologize," he waved my weak apology away nudging me in a jeer, "its human nature to judge strangers, no?"

I tilted my head in question. "So what you're saying is, you judged me, too?"

He scoffed. "Are you kidding? Of course I did."

"Um," I opened my mouth to say something smart, but closed it when I realized I had nothing to say. Instead, I came up with, "and what were your observations?"

He squinted his eyes at his words I'd thrown back at him. "Well, you are serious, but you seem very well put together, so I guess that's appropriate."

I smiled at his discernment, because what'd he said was something I'd known for a long time. When years keep on passing by and the only assurance you have is the never coming of death, seriousness becomes a comforting place.

"Am I right?" His questioning voice brought me out of my thoughts and back to him.

I nodded slowly. "At least one of us can read people well."

"Oh stop it," he chuckled, "but thanks for the compliment. I'm glad someone finally noticed this gift of mine."

I nudged him playfully. "Oh shut up. It's not that big of a deal."

"Says the one who can't read people well," he laughed.

I laughed along as well, shaking my head. "Okay, you got me there."

He laughed along and for a moment, I sat there, purely taken back by the purity and beauty of his laughter.

I was admiring his laughter. I realize how weird and unusual that is, but I can't help myself. There was something about this man that reminded me of a place in time that I cannot put my finger on.

The glimmer in his light eyes seemed so damn familiar, as if I'd passionately stared into them before. His smile had this aura of exquisite beauty that made me lose my breath when I stared too long.

The thing is though his face as a whole isn't familiar. As far as I can remember, I've never seen this man before in my long years.

But those eyes and that smile have my mind swept up in a tornado that keeps whirling around the same question: where do I know him from?

"Have you ever-" Harold had begun to say something, his voice attracting my voice to focus on him once more when everything shook.

It wasn't a slight shake like the ones felt during small earthquakes in California. No, this was the real deal.

I immediately threw my arms around Harold's side, feeling his arms going around me in the following second. I could feel our hard breaths mixing as the shaking went on, terribly increasing at one point before decreasing back down.

And I could hear Harold whispering something, perhaps to himself, over and over again.

"Not today, not today, please not today..."