He was such a coward.

It wasn’t an epiphany or anything, he was well aware of the fact. Still, it was a hard thing to swallow, especially when he realized it in the act, like he did now. He wanted to be strong, or bold, or whatever the opposite of being what he was right now was, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t face her directly, not after this length of time, and especially not after he hadn’t gotten the picture from her.

It had been a little over a week since the thing, their first raised-voices, full-on argument, and they had barely talked since. She had done what she always did, got quiet and pulled back into herself. She didn’t laugh, didn’t smile, and basically had just walled herself off completely.

He could see it through her wide-eyes. It was as if she was absorbing all the blame, ill feelings, and anger of the argument and then bottling it up inside of herself. Not talking to anybody, just silently suffering alone.

He hated it. He hated it more then anything else. She acted like that after Roy and her fought, but he knew how to deal with that. He would make a simple joke, make her laugh, and she would flash that smile of hers that made him warm and tight in the chest. Ten minutes later, she was a different person. The worn-whiteness of her face would be pink and alive.

But now, he was the cause of her unhappiness, and he could only hope that he could fix it. It was just so damn confusing with her sometimes though. She was his best friend, and he felt like he knew her so well. But, when it came to Roy and their relationship, he was lost. It was like navigating a minefield while wearing a blindfold.

He was never sure of his step, what words might upset her. Usually, he just avoided the topic of Roy altogether, they both did, but their argument had involved Roy. It was just like the morning after the roof, when he had gotten frustrated with her deliberate denial of what it had meant. And now, once again, in a flash of anger, he had accidentally revealed a little of what he really thought of Roy and how he treated her. Her defense of Roy, of her choices, only served to make him feel worse, and strain their friendship further.

What was worse, he saw the way that her face lit up when flowers came through the door, and how her shoulders slumped when she passed them along to their beloved owner. How she had gotten more and more frustrated the whole of Valentine’s Day with Roy, but had said nothing. How she was suffering, but wouldn’t come over to talk to him because of their argument.

That was why this had to work. Their friendship was too important to him to just let it wilt in silence and awkwardness. He tried not to have expectations, or at least any grand ones, he just wanted to see her smile again, and maybe laugh. Anything that could start them back towards each other. Without her, it felt like the oxygen had been slowly sucked out the office, everything was more difficult and harder to do. Not to mention how it followed him home…

Finally, she got up from her desk and walked towards the bathroom. He noticed that she looked over at him quickly as she passed Dwight’s desk, but wouldn’t hold his gaze. He looked over at the clock, 4:55. It was time to make his move.

He quickly stood up, and slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder. His fingers slid down it and took the card out of the side pocket, and held it low against his leg. As he glanced down at it, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of how much trouble it had taken to make it.

He walked briskly towards the coat rack next to Reception, and with a look around the office to make sure nobody saw, put the card on Pam’s desk. He grabbed his coat and walked towards the door.

He fought with his coat sleeve as he made his way towards the elevator. His bag had tangled up with it somehow. He hip-checked the down button, and waited for the doors to open. A couple seconds later, there was a ding and they parted.

He shuffled on, and turned around to face the doors. They slowly and creakily began to close. That was when he heard it.

“Jim, wait!”

Despite his surprise at the words, and especially their tone, his hand was already gripping the half-closed door. They jumped back into the wall.

She came around the corner now, and into his view. Her curly hair cascading down her shoulders, and her face flushed. That wasn’t what he really noticed though; it wasn’t what made him stop and stare.

She was smiling widely.