“You want me to back off for a bit while you figure it out?” I asked him. “Give you some space to—” “No,” he whisper-shouted. “No.” He wouldn’t look at me, his blue gloves pulling the bandana tight around his nose and mouth. “I can no longer…I do not wish for space.” “Says the germaphobe who always demanded space.” “I want you in my space,” he said, finally looking at me through a pair of safety goggles. “I…I think I need you in my space.”
Swoon
