A/N: This takes place right after 7x13.
Title from the song Looking Too Closely by Fink.
It bothers him.
It bothers him that every time she plays with her hair, he notices it.
It bothers him that she'll slip into his mind sometimes, when he's working or driving or sleeping. Nothing and then boom. Her face will smile at him, or he'll hear her voice saying something meaningful and meaningless. Sometimes, even, what seeps through his walls is an old memory; pale, nimble fingers, arching backs, a rocking rhythm and lips that taste like rollercoasters. That bothers him more than the rest.
It bothers him that one time she drops files off at his desk and leaves early for a date.
It bothers him that he even feels all this, that it had to become this and nothing else. Seven billion people in the world to work with and all that minus one to fall for and she had to be both at the same time.
It bothers him that she kissed him out of nowhere. It probably bothers him more that he's been thinking about that since the day she did it.
It bothers him that he felt something, and that she didn't, or that she lied that she didn't. He isn't sure which one is right, and that bothers him too.
It bothers him that she's not sitting close to him anymore, but it also bothers him when she does and it distracts him.
It bothers him that all his ties are organized by meaning - the meaning she ascribed to them - but she hasn't been in his apartment in ages.
It bothers him that he actually went so far as to find her another job when Paula asked him to choose. He'll probably never get over that one.
It bothers him that he chose her, but it bothers him more that he didn't choose her more often before.
It bothers him how quickly she forgave him.
It bothers him that he didn't go inside that night.
It bothers him that every single freakin' time he passes near the Rock he remembers her, just from that one time she told him that story of when she was little.
It bothers him that it's been fifteen years and it never feels like enough time.
It bothers him that he feels like he's always running from something and, at the same time, always bracing for something.
It bothers him that he can't bring himself to say all this, and that not being able to do that makes him feel inadequate.
It bothers him that they're the closest people each other has and yet they hardly talk these days.
It bothers him that she used to be able to tell how he was feeling just from the way he styled his hair. She probably still can, but she doesn't say it out loud anymore.
It bothers him that sometimes there are flowers, but they're never from him.
It bothers him that this is a mess and it bothers him that they put themselves in it.
It bothers him that she even had a rule in the first place, although it's actually a clever and responsible one.
It bothers him that she broke said rule for Stephen Huntley, but never for him. This bothers him a lot.
It bothers him that his brother asks him about finding someone, and that he never has a good enough answer to give after Marcus sees through the "I'm happy alone".
It bothers him that she blames him, though sometimes he suspects he blames himself too.
It bothers him that he never saw any of it coming.
It bothers him when his apartment feels empty.
It bothers him that he can't eat whipped cream anymore.
Most of all, it bothers him that she's still the one he wants to see after a long day, still the one he wants to share news with, still the one mouth he thinks of kissing and the one body he thinks of holding whenever he can't stop himself from thinking those things. It bothers him that it's still her, after all this time.