"Mr. Octavius Holtz." announced my parole officer, setting down a pile of papers onto his tattered desk as he lowered himself into his black leather office chair. "So, looks like it's been two years already."
"Two years and you still won't call me Otto." I leaned back in my own chair across from him, hearing it creak beneath me. The cushion was stained and torn and the wooden arms were scratched to all hell. Almost everything in the office was worn and had likely been there for years. I smirked at my parole officer. "I promise it's much easier, Miguel."
"That's Mr. Santiago to you. And it isn't appropriate for me to call you by a nickname." Miguel shuffled the papers on his desk and picked a ballpoint pen out of a cup to his left, his eyes cast downward and avoiding my stare.
I shrugged and looked out the window behind him, which showed the parking lot, as worn and broken as the building it held. "It also isn't appropriate for you to come to my house for a drink and--"
"Hey," he interrupted. "It's your last meeting. Let's not do anything to put that in jeopardy."
"We already did..." I muttered as I smiled at him, meeting his dark brown eyes. "But whatever you say, sir."
Miguel's face flushed briefly and he quickly changed the subject, gesturing to the documents in front of him with a sharp inhale. "You're doing well in work, and you'll be finishing up your bachelor's degree later this year. I trust you haven't been in contact with any criminals?"
Shifting my weight, I moved my gaze to his hand and watched him write, deciding my fate. "Nope, all my friends are clean, as far as I know."
"Are you currently romantically involved with anyone?" he asked, scribbling on one of the papers in black ink.
"Only you, Boss."
Miguel jolted slightly but, after a pause, resumed his writing. "So no romantic partners. Is anyone living with you?"
"Miguel."
"It's Mr. Santiago." Miguel looked up at me with a tired expression, which melted away after looking into my eyes. He cautiously set down his pen. "What is it?"
I leaned forward. "When I leave, are you going to ignore me? Is this the last time...the last time we're going to see each other?" I asked grimly.
Miguel's shoulders dropped and his eyes softened. "No...no, of course not."724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡznMGHimS6U
"Listen."724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4mb9RhARDf
'I'm listening, Octavius."
Becoming shy at hearing him say my name, I lowered my voice. "I can't just....pretend there isn't something...between us."
Miguel stood up and reached across the table to place his hand on mine. "Octavius." He smiled gently at me.
"Yeah?"
"For such a smartass, you sure are sensitive."
I smiled back at him as I stood and leaned forward, kissing him softly.
"I'll always be here, mi amado."
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