The unfinished office was cleaned up for once. Even with the three pieces of furniture in the blank room, the young boss left his U-shaped desk a mess with scattered paperwork; it discussed the extensive list of underlings that were quitting.
The boy sat across from the boss. He helped him clean while casually glancing at his untrustworthy co-workers on the right wall of brand new, sharp security cameras, the only ‘piece of art’ in the room. The boss stood, closing the blackout curtains to hide the bustling city roads and snowy sidewalks. The sun reflecting off the white snow gave him a blaring headache. He turned and examined his only loyal employee.
“Cassius,” the boss swooned, loosening his tie.
“Why do you always call me by my full name? I hate it,” the boy said.
“Cassy!”
“No.”
“Shadow!”
“Why Shadow?”
“You always walk behind me, my shadow,” the boss chuckled and snatched up the papers the boy was about to organize. He gave his subordinate a glowing smirk which made the boy’s mouth curl, as he tried to hide the smile forming. They sat across from each other; the boss giving a longing, playful stare and the boy with diverting blushing eyes.
“Is there something you need?” the boy mumbled. He was getting tired of their unintentional staring contest and returned to complete the task asked by his boss.
“Have you talked to her yet?” The boss asked.
“No.”
“You have to-“
“I know and I will,” the boy told him in a growl, “I’m just...scared.”
“It’s not like she could say anything worse to you. There’s nothing to be scared of,” the boss pulled his leather chair next to the boy.
“That’s not what I’m scared of,” the boy couldn’t stare at his boss in the eye yet he wanted to look anywhere but the floor. “What are my parents going to say? And your Dad? And everyone else that works here? And she’s...your sister, what is she going to think?”
“They’ll get over it, they won’t be angry. You just have to be honest.”
“It’s not that easy for me.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, but I’m tired of waiting for you.”
“I’m sorry. I promise, I’ll...” the boy sniffled, shooting a look towards the security cameras to hide his glassy eyes, “I’ll tell her and I’ll come back to you, I promise. You just have to wait a little bit longer.”
The boss put an arm around the boy, turning his flushed face to gaze at one another, “Don’t start crying, I don’t know how to deal with sadness,” he glowed with a loving grin. “You can tell them when you’re ready. I just can’t wait to be with you every day.”
“That’s the reason I got this job, to be with you every day.”
The boss laughed and gave his employee a playful squeeze.
“What do you think I should tell her?”
“That you don’t want to be with her anymore.”
“Is that really it?” The boy wiped his face and caressed the executive’s hand.
“She doesn’t need to know the details,” the boss’s face formed a scowl whenever he mentioned that girl.
“I feel like I should tell her, though.”
“She doesn’t need to know the details. She’ll figure it out eventually and when she does, she’ll feel terrible and it’ll make me laugh.”
“You’re so mean to her. I don’t want to break her heart,” the boy said. “I mean, she’s your sister, Damien.”
“She’s not my sister. I don’t want anything to do with her and I don’t care about how she feels.”
The boy let out a disapproving sigh and pulled away from his boss. He resumed the cleanup.
“So?” The boss said, trying to get the boy’s attention again. “Don’t tell me you still care about her...”
“It’s not that...it’s just,” the boy clumsily shuffled the paperwork around in his hands, “I don’t know what I feel.” He glanced over at the buzzing cell phone on the desk beside him.
“That’s her?” The boss asked.
“She just texted.” The boy said.
“What does she want?”
“She just wants to talk later today. Why do you care?”
“Don’t.”
“Why does it matter to you?”
“Because I care about you.”
“Why?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions.”
“It’s not stupid, answer me.”
The boss’s face crinkled as he tried putting his thoughts into a sentence, “You know she doesn’t truly care about who you really are. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“You don’t know that.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“What do you mean?”
The boss groaned and turned away from the boy; staring back out the blinding window and the, now, setting sun, “You can do whatever makes you happy, but I’ll be here, waiting for you. I’m sorry.”

The boy shot up after noticing the change in attitude and his staring out at the nothingness of white snow. He slapped down the letters of resignation he had organized on the stack of manila folders and carefully placed the assorted pens and pencils in their designated jar. The boy pushed the leather seats aside and began heading towards the tinted glass french door behind him and took a final, cautious look at the security cameras, at his fellow co-workers working hard at their desks.
“Where are you going?” The boss asked as the gold handle began to twist in the boy’s hand.
“I’m going to tell her, so you could shut up.” The boy smirked and left.