Inside Hazel

Waking up to cooler weather today felt like a long-awaited relief. As I swing the window wide open, a gentle, cool morning breeze instantly brushes against my skin, carrying an indescribable fresh scent from the plants outside. I’m so glad I found this house. It’s close to the city center, yet nestled in a peaceful, green neighborhood. Here, I can start everything over - and finally, nobody is interfering in my life.

Still, a sudden wave of fear creeps up deep inside me. The reality of being completely alone hits, bringing a longing for someone to be by my side. Naturally, a flood of memories follows - the way my ex left me in the lurch. Yet, that very pain gives me the strength to learn how to exist on my own. My own desires matter now. What is the point of giving them up for someone else, when they are only living for their own?

I no longer check his profile every day, nor do I think about him every passing hour. Just then, I look down at my dog, Rambo, who is nudging my thigh with his nose as if to say:

“Hey! I’m right here for you, and you can count on me…”

I wrap my arms around his big, soft head, and he just gazes back at me with those huge, healing eyes. He follows me everywhere. Checking the clock, I realize it’s already half past seven. Time to get ready - I need to be at the studio by nine-thirty. I’m nervous because today is the first time I’ll be meeting the owner, though thankfully everyone has been extremely kind and helpful so far. They feel like a big family. It’s rare. I haven’t really worked in a place like this before, and most importantly, I get to focus on what actually interests me. The knot in my stomach - that familiar anxiety of being in a new place with new people - is finally gone. From what I’ve seen, everyone is so unique, yet they seamlessly work together as a team. The owner of a place like this can’t be a bad guy either, I reassure myself.

Alright, time to get dressed quickly. It’s cooler today, so I pull on my favorite comfortable jeans—they go with everything. Ah, perfect, a simple black long-sleeve top. It’s light, not too thick, just right for today. Glad I braided my hair last night; all I need to do now is unbraid it, run a comb through, and it’s good to go.

Grumble. My stomach lets out a quiet growl. I let Rambo out into the yard. It’s as if he has a hidden rabbit inside him - the way he bounds out the door and dashes around every corner. I quickly whip up some oatmeal with fresh fruit, which always hits the spot in the morning. It’s almost nine o’clock - I need to head out soon. I apply a touch of foundation and a bit of bronzing blush to bring some warmth back to my pale skin. Looking at my eyes, they could definitely use a little tuning up too. I stayed up late working on my personal blog, so I didn’t get much sleep. But I will never give that up - it’s what allowed me to start a new life on my own. Still, I need to be around people sometimes, and doing design work with a great team feels like the best medicine right now.

I refuse to beat myself up over my appearance anymore. I sweep on some mascara, and if anyone doesn’t like how I look, they don’t have to look. Lately, I find myself reflecting more on how much I’ve changed. I no longer spend hours stressing over my appearance or feeling constrained by the walls in front of me. I’ve realized that my inner strength is what brought me here.

Time to go. I grab my project files, my MacBook, phone, and keys. I make sure Rambo has fresh food and water, leaving him outside to guard the yard.

Sitting in the car, I’m almost there, but my stomach starts doing flips at the thought of meeting the owner today. I don’t get myself. Stepping through the door ten minutes early, I find everyone already there. They welcome me with warm smiles. One of the girls, Meli, is super approachable - like a younger, maternal figure. She immediately hands me a coconut water, telling me to drink up because it’s great for my health.

There are six of us in total. Three guys: George, the resident master - everyone runs to him whenever they hit a roadblock. Mike, who’s a bit stuck in the tech-geek world with his classic glasses and vest-and-shirt combo (he acts like he’s intimidated to talk to me, even though I try my best to be friendly). And Raf, the quintessential playboy type. He tried his luck with me on my very first day, but I politely explained that I’m focusing on myself right now and don’t have room for a relationship with a man - casual or serious. Thankfully, he understood and shifted to a friendly approach, though I still catch him staring every now and then.

Then there are three of us women: Meli, who I can already tell is going to be my best friend, boosting the company’s reputation with her creative, bold ideas. And Vanda, our direct boss and ultimate mentor. It feels so good to have a female boss who looks at female colleagues without a drop of envy. She helps with everything, even recommending nearby restaurants worth checking out. She’s in her mid-forties, a divorced mother of three, and the ultimate “I’ve got everything under control” type. I feel safe around them. Knowing I’m new to the city, they’ve made it clear I can turn to them for anything.

Gradually, everyone settles into their spots - some with smoothies, others with massive half-liter coffees - and we casually ease into work. Unpacking at my desk, I flip open my MacBook. Meli walks over, her eyes full of curiosity. She asks why I turned Raf down on day one and why I don’t want a relationship right now. I could launch into an hours-long dramatic story, but I keep it brief: a long-term relationship ended recently.

Meli asks, “Is that why you moved to a new city?”

“Yes. Everything there reminded me of him. Meanwhile, he’s traveling the world. We’re both chasing our dreams.”

I try to end on a positive note, but I can already feel a lump forming in my throat. Meli gently pats my shoulder and offers an empathetic,

“It will get better. You’re on the right track.”

She then invites me to join her for lunch so we can catch up properly. I’ve been craving an intimate conversation with someone I can trust, so I gladly accept.

By eleven o’clock, I’m deeply immersed in my project. Earbuds in, smooth deep house playing - it always helps me focus. Suddenly, I notice Meli tapping my arm and nodding toward the common area. I pop out an earbud and look where she’s gesturing. Turning around, I see Vanda welcoming a man with warm, laughing courtesy.

He’s wearing a relaxed white tee, black jeans, and a pair of high-end sneakers. At the nape of his neck, a thick, white-gold chain glistens - classy, stylish, yet effortlessly simple. His hair is freshly faded from the back, and as he raises his hand, a sleek watch flashes on his wrist, perfectly complementing his outfit. You simply can’t take your eyes off him. The rounded, muscular shape of his shoulders stretches the fabric of his shirt, and every muscle in his back subtly moves beneath the fabric. As he turns, I catch a clear view of his face and freeze completely.

I don’t know what’s happening. It’s as if everything inside me just shut down. Those eyes, that gaze, the line of his nose, and his lips as he speaks - a half-smile strays across his mouth, and my stomach instantly ties itself in knots. Oh my God!

I quickly turn back to my screen, whispering to Meli, “Who is that?”

She grins and replies, “That’s the owner, Mark.”

She goes on to explain that he’s a genuinely great guy, on top of looking incredible. He’s forty and an investor. He loves investing in talent or places that foster talented people. She mentions he’s big in trading, which is where his wealth comes from, but his heart remained in the right place. I act as if it doesn’t phase me, but deep down, something inside me just switched on. I don’t understand myself. I’m in the best phase of my life - I don’t want any new drama, not even a spark of desire.

Just then, I hear my name. “Hazel! Do you have a moment?”

I glance back over my chair and see Vanda calling me over - and the owner’s eyes are fixed on me too. For a second, our eyes meet. His are a spellbinding brown with flecks of gold, making me feel like a deer caught in a lion’s gaze. He raises an eyebrow with a subtle, gentle smile. I quickly break eye contact and look at Vanda to brush off the sudden wave of nerves. I ask how I can help.

“I’d like to introduce you to the owner of our company, Mark B. Holton,” Vanda says, gesturing gracefully toward him.

I attempt a confident handshake to introduce myself, but as Vanda continues, Mark wraps his other hand over mine.

“Mark, this is our newest talent, Hazel Vance. She runs her own blog alongside bringing her incredible creativity to our team.”

The moment Mark holds my hand, a sudden, inexplicable surge hits me - an intense heat mixed with a shiver down my spine. His eyes remain locked onto mine, sending a wave of tension and raw desire through every inch of my body. Trying to pull myself together, I offer a soft smile.

Vanda elaborates on Mark’s vision for the company - how he founded it so our work could produce content that strengthens human connection, serves environmental protection, and highlights peace. Mark takes over, sharing how deeply it frustrates him to see so many videos and posts spreading hate and destruction, and that if he has the power to shift that narrative, he will.

For a second, I’m speechless. My inner voice wants to gush, “You are breathtaking.” But no! That’s not me! What on earth is happening to me? Gathering my composure, I manage a thoughtful reply:

“That’s precisely my issue too, which is why I haven’t been on Facebook in a long time, and why I started my own blog.”

I hoped that would be the end of it so I could return to my desk, but Mark follows up:

“You run a blog? I love reading personal blogs! How can I find it?”

His gaze hasn’t left me for a single second, almost as if trying to entrance me. He answers mysteriously, “It sounds captivating already, just from the title.”

He gives another charming half-smile, those golden flecks gleaming in his eyes, making my heart beat even faster. It’s getting harder to hide my reaction. Yet, I’m bewildered. Is this for real?! What does he want from me?

Thankfully, Vanda steps in, allowing me to stay composed and head back to my desk. I walk back feeling weightless, a tingling sensation humming through my body. His smile and his look linger endlessly in my mind. What is this?

Meli looks at me with a smirk.

“Do you really not notice how men look at you? First Raf, now Mark! And it doesn’t even sway you? I’ve never seen Mark react to anyone like that before.”

Meanwhile, Mark moves on to greet the rest of the team. Loud, manly laughter breaks out with the guys, making it impossible for Meli and me to concentrate - not that I was capable of focusing anyway. Since it’s past noon, we head out for lunch. I’m relieved to get out of the office to clear my head, hoping Mark will be gone by the time we return. What if I had stayed and waited for him to speak with everyone and approach me again? No way. I don’t need this in my life.

According to Meli, he rarely drops by the office anyway. We head to a cozy nearby bistro known for delicious burgers made with high-quality ingredients. I’m glad she brought me here. As we start eating, Meli dives right back into the morning’s events:

“Seriously, Mark has never looked at a girl like that around us, and we’ve even been out partying with him.”

“Partying?” I ask.

“Yeah! He takes us out for team-building events every now and then. Plus, there’s a tradition: every month there’s a raffle, and whoever’s name Mark pulls gets to host the next weekend grill party at their place. Last time, he took us to that new upscale spot, Voyage - super luxury, top DJs, guest-list only. He has some stakes in it. There were plenty of women trying to hit on him - and not just anyone, women with fake breasts, duck lips, the works. But he brushed every single one of them off.”

Deep down, the tingling feeling intensifies as Meli talks about him. Who is this man? He looks so intense on the outside, yet seems like a gentle lion underneath? And why did he look at me that way?

Our conversation shifts to our personal lives. Meli has been single for a year after a ten-year relationship ended because he cheated. Now, he even has a child with the woman he cheated with. Meli tells me he never wanted children with her. Poor girl. She seems so strong, yet she’s been through her share of pain too.

She asks me, “You’re over thirty too, right?”

“Yeah, unfortunately - thirty-three,” I reply with a laugh.

“Oh, we’re the same age! Do you want kids someday?”

“Honestly, no. My ex and I didn’t want any either. I’d rather pursue my own dreams - why bring a child into a world like this? It might sound selfish, but if you don’t truly long for it, I don’t see the point in forcing it. I love kids, of course, but now is just not my time.”

Meli glances at her watch and suddenly jumps up - we need to head back as it’s almost one o’clock.

As we reach the office door, that inexplicable excitement washes over me again. Part of me hopes he’s still inside, while the other part is terrified he might be. Stepping in, he’s nowhere to be seen. A wave of relief hits me - it’s better this way, I don’t need any drama. Yet, his scent still lingers in the air. Fresh, masculine, and captivating - so much so that if he were standing in front of me, I’d want to inhale the scent off his chest. Alright, snap out of it, I tell myself, mentally slapping my face before diving back into work.

The afternoon flies by as everyone gets absorbed in their projects - before I know it, it’s five o’clock. Suddenly, Raf appears beside my desk, asking if I have any plans for the evening.

“No plans tonight. I can’t wait to get home to my dog and work on my blog.”

“Would you want to join me for a movie night picnic then?”

“I’m sorry, but no. As friends, anytime - but tonight I’ve already planned a cozy evening at home.”

A bit disappointed, he still leaves with a polite smile. I try to be fair and firm without being cold, making sure not to give off any wrong signals. He’s my colleague, after all, and I want to avoid any awkwardness at work.

I pack up my things and say goodbye to Meli, who’s getting ready for a date. I encourage her not to be nervous, telling her the guy is going to love her.

On my drive home, I remember I need to pick up food for Rambo, so I pull over at a pet store. As I walk back to my car, the roar of a heavy motorcycle shatters the quiet street. A sleek black bike speeds past, ridden by someone decked out in dark leather gear and a black helmet. The sound makes me look up - just as I’m opening my car door, he slows down right next to me, eyeing me up and down. His helmet visor is flipped up, leaving only his eyes visible, but a strange sense of familiarity hits me. Have I seen him before?

A sudden rush of warmth and excitement makes my heart race. What is going on with the planetary alignments today that has me so charged up? I quickly get inside the car, trying to shake it off. I just want to get home, unwind, and enjoy some peace.

As I open the gate, Rambo is waiting patiently, ready to bound over to me. I feed him right away, and he’s so grateful. Once he finishes his dinner, he bounces around with joy. We play in the yard for a bit before I bring my bags inside and unpack.

I turn on some background music. Rambo settles onto his cushion near the kitchen, watching my every move. My mind keeps drifting back to that gaze - where do I know it from? Then it hits me: Mark’s eyes. Goosebumps run down my spine, but not in a bad way. I don’t understand this sudden longing I feel whenever I think of him. What would it feel like to run my hands across his muscular chest, to feel his touch, to be wrapped in his arms, and to look closely into those eyes?

My appetite vanishes. Instead, I decide to go for a run to clear my mind. Changing into comfortable workout gear, I clip the leash onto Rambo’s collar. He’s instantly thrilled, knowing we’re heading out. I leave the lights on inside to make the house look occupied, though it’s already fully equipped with a security system.

I love running around this neighborhood - it’s peaceful, safe, and beautiful. People are always so friendly to Rambo too. Whenever we pass someone, they adore him. No surprise there: he’s a gorgeous Amstaff, the best guard dog, and the sweetest pup.

As we near the end of our loop, Rambo is panting with his tongue out, so we head back toward home. We’re just a short distance from the gate when another loud engine roar echoes from the end of the street. Looking up, I can’t believe my eyes - it’s the exact same rider from the pet store. He approaches, slowing down further. At the sound of the bike, every dog in the neighborhood starts barking. He keeps his eyes locked on me as he glides closer. I force myself to look straight ahead - the entrance is just a few steps away. Heat surges through me, my heart hammering against my ribs.

He passes right beside me, never breaking eye contact. He flips up his visor and winks. That look sends a sudden chill and heatwave through my entire body. What is this? I freeze, completely unable to react. Rambo tugs on the leash, snapping me out of my trance. I quickly head inside the gate as Rambo grows restless from the motorcycle sound.

Finally showered, I sink into the sofa and open my MacBook, eager to continue writing my blog. Then it hits me: Damn it, I told the owner the name of my blog! What if he looks it up? Since I write about my daily life and everything going on inside my head, I can’t write about him directly. He can’t know. Of course, he might never check it out or might not even remember the name, but I can’t take that risk.

However, I decide to write the motorcyclist into the story instead. He sparked something inside me, yet I want to channel this restless interest into writing. Why does a single look magnetize me so much? I only saw him from a distance, yet he felt so familiar. In my thoughts, I’d strip down for him in a heartbeat - though thankfully, I have enough self-control in reality. Still, it makes for a great story. It feels like the safest route while keeping my blog authentic, so it isn’t just a boring record of what I fed my dog.

Within half an hour of uploading the post, a few comments pop up - everyone is curious about the mysterious rider. By ten o’clock, I decide to head to bed.

Falling asleep is a struggle. Mark dominates my thoughts - the way he looked at me, the firm warmth of his hand over mine, his features, his tone, his muscular frame, and that unforgettable scent lingering in my mind. Drifting off into a deep sleep, his image is the last thing I see.

I wake up refreshed the next morning, the soft sunlight streaming through the window. Rambo is already standing by the door, waiting to be let out. Sitting outside with a warm cup of coffee in hand, I watch him run around, play, and explore every corner of the yard...