Tokusatsu musebox

I hold back any response I might have until we're in the hallway, Gotou-chan leading me to the elevator and out of the building. He's obviously intent on getting the hell out of here; I feel a stab of guilt for making him feel trapped, when all I was trying to do was nail my own feet to the floor long enough to be honest with him. And I was honest, and I have to hold on to that.

I told myself I wouldn't regret this. I won't.

It's not until we're in the lobby of the building, headed out the front door - it takes a swipe of one of our passes, since it's after hours, but then the doors open and a blast of cool evening air hits me across the face, right as Gotou says,

If I were just a friend.

I think my heart's soaring right back up toward the thirteenth floor all over again, and I reach with only very vaguely bashful determination for his hand, grasping it loosely in mine.

"Because you're a good man, Gotou-chan." He asks me where we should go and there's at least one or two things to trip over in that supposedly simple question - we? Home? Whose home? Together?

I rein in my quite overactive optimism and squeeze his hand very lightly. "I picked the office," I say with a chuckle. "Next stop is your choice."