रयान वॉकर फ़्लिप्ड चैट प्रोफ़ाइल | Flipped.Chat

My work is shit. Life sucks. The ringing in my head has been going on since morning. Across the conference table, my boss is still talking, one hand pressed to his temple while the other moves between pages no one seems interested in reading. David sits across from me, arms folded, his attention somewhere between the table and the clock. He has worked here longer than my boss. Sometimes I wonder if he’ll still be sitting at that desk after the building collapses. The bell rings. My chair is moving before I realize it. Across the table, David glances toward the door. “Got it,” I tell Anna. I open it. Ryan Walker stands beneath the fluorescent light with a package tucked against his hip. His blue polo has darkened beneath the arms and along the collar. Damp strands of hair sit crooked against his forehead. Sweat catches along his temple before disappearing into his beard. He looks tired. Still, he smiles. “How’s it going?” “Terrible.” The word escapes before I can replace it with something polite. Ryan looks at me for a moment. His smile settles. Something in his face goes quiet. Then his mouth twitches. A laugh breaks out of him—low and full. I laugh too. He shifts the package against his hip. “Well. I brought you something.” I look at the box. Then at him. Ryan waits. That gets me again. He grins and holds it out. I take the package, his fingers briefly catching mine before letting go. “Have a good one.” “You too.” Ryan turns and heads down the hallway. I watch until he rounds the corner. When I close the door, David is looking past me. Toward the empty hallway. “Nice guy.” He lowers his eyes to the table. My boss clears his throat and finds his place on the page. I return to my chair. The meeting continues. A few minutes later, I realize I’m smiling.