Pip and Jacob sat in an empty office room; the same office room at the end of an obscured hallway that lead to nowhere, on the thirteenth floor of their building, with a small window in the corner that both let in sunlight, and overlooked the city. It was in this same room that Thomas had been talking to Jason on the phone only a few weeks earlier. It was actually a room that Thomas had discovered years ago, and since then, the four of them, Thomas, Daniel, Alex and Jacob, had been using it to escape on their lunch breaks. It was a place where they would sit and listen to music, play cards, or just chat. The best part was how secretive it was, and how little people knew about it; they were sure that they’d never be interrupted.

  But Thomas, Daniel and Alex weren’t here today, and neither was Sally (she had recently also been frequenting their little hideout). Instead, Jacob and Pip were on one of the tables looking at Pip’s laptop. There was a word document projected on the screen, Jacob scanned over the writing rapidly, his eyes darting from side to side.

  ‘I love it,’ Jacob said as he read through the document on the screen, ‘is this your first draft?’

  ‘I brushed over it a couple of times, but yeah, it’s basically a first draft.’

  ‘Golly wizz Miss. Penellope Fey, you have a talent for writing.’

  ‘Why thank you Mr. Jacob Azzopardi. I do have a degree in English literature, so I think it’s only natural.’

  Jacob looked over it again quickly.

  ‘There are only a few small changes I’d make,’ Jacob said as he began highlighting a sentence in yellow using the mouse cursor, ‘but honestly, you probably should just be your own editor. You’re doing a better job than I ever could.’

  Pip waved it off.

  ‘It’s always good to have a second pair of eyes look over these things.’

  ‘Oh and a small typo over here,’ Jacob said hovering the mouse over a word that should have read community, but instead read communiy. A simple mistake that Pip had probably just made because she’d been typing too fast. Though Jacob was surprised that it hadn’t been picked up by spellcheck.

  ‘And that’s why it’s good to have a second pair of eyes,’ Pip said.

  ‘You’re good enough to be your own second set of eyes. But I’ll feel privileged if you do continue to let me have that honor.’

  ‘The honor is all yours, Jacob. In fact, I hereby dub you as a knight of my new writing association - Sir Jacob of Cair Paravel.’

  ‘It hath been many, many of years since I resided at Cair Paravel my lady.’

  ‘Oh well, then I dub you Sir Jacob of Melbourne CBD,’ Penelope said.

  ‘Not as fancy. But more accurate. No doubt. And you have my solemn oath to protect and uphold your writing. So when are you going to publish this anyway.’

  Pip shut her lap top abruptly and smiled.

  ‘It’s not getting published.’

  ‘Whaaaaat! I thought I was your knight. There’s no point being a knight of a writing association that doesn’t publish anything.’

  ‘It was a stupid idea and the article is nonsense.’

  ‘This flipped around quickly,’ Jacob remarked.

  ‘There’s no way anyone is going to read it anyway.’

  ‘I’ll read it for starters,’ Jacob assured her.

  ‘You don’t count. You’re my official knight. You have to read it.’

  Jacob put his hand on your shoulder.

  ‘Look, I get it. Putting fictional writing out there is a scary thing - but you’re writing about your own experiences. Personally, I think you’re being braver than most people. This, what you have right here, it’s going to make a difference in the world. You’re going to make a difference. Please, don’t write it off just yet (no pun intended), sit on it and think about it for a while. Okay?’

  Pip let out a deep breath.

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘And besides, every writer thinks their work is garbage. Tolkien didn’t show anyone his manuscript for ten years.’

  ‘Really? Ten years? That long.’

  Jacob nodded.

  ‘It’s a fact. And I’m sure in a hundred years directors will be making cheap money grab movies and series out of your writing.’

  ‘Except it’s a blog post. And the first three Lord of the Rings movies were brilliant.’

  ‘They’re nothing without Tom Bombadil.’

  ‘Well I can assure you my writing will never feature a fictional character based on my garden gnome.’

  ‘Oh give it time. You might not be writing about garden gnomes, but you’ll get popular, and before too long you’ll be inventing your own languages.’

  Pip laughed. There was something about Jacob that always made her feel better; especially when she needed it.

  The rest of the afternoon passed tranquilly. They didn’t really talk much more about the blog post; though, for Pip, the idea of writing about her experiences stuck around like an annoying fly that wouldn’t go away. Her mind was flipping back and forth between the idea of publishing it every minute. One moment it seemed like a good idea; she felt inspired and motivated. But in the next moment, it seemed corny and absurd. But what really put her mind in a boggle was, even if she did decide that she wanted to do something with her writing, even if she did decide that she wanted to move forward with it, the reality was, she didn’t really even know where to start. Writing was something she only did out of necessity. For her uni essays, for assignment and emails at work. She’d even once written a love letter (though that was in year eleven). But she’d never done it creatively; and she’d certainly never done it to further a cause.

  ***

  It was the usual Friday date night for Jacob and Maria. A short afternoon walk, followed by a quick drink (usually a decaffeinated coffee), and then the two of them would swing past the shops and pick up some food so they could make dinner together. They’d eat; watch a movie, and Maria would normally fall asleep on Jacob’s shoulder. That was when he’d carry her to bed, do the dishes, kiss Maria on the cheek, and sneak back to his apartment before she even knew he was gone. It normally played out that way, and so Jacob assumed that this Friday night would be no different. Well it wasn’t too much different; though it was a little bit different.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Their casual walk was nice, albeit a little bit shorter than usual, but no less tranquil. The temperature was rising, and the sun was setting. They passed kids playing in the park, birds flew around gracefully, and the flowers were blooming brightly. The suburbs around Maria’s house were nice, and the wind, which had been icy only a few weeks earlier, was now turning into a warm (ish) breeze.

  Maria suggest ravujl for dinner, which was essentially the Maltese version of Italian ravioli; and Jacob couldn’t have thought of anything that would be more appetising. Ravujl was one of his favourites when he’d been a kid. And so, after their coffee, they dropped into the local IGA to get everything they needed. And before Jacob knew it, the two of them had their hands dirty with sticky flour as they kneaded the dough, and mixed the ricotta cheese with parsley.

  When the dough was ready, Jacob washed his hands and began preparing the sauce, while Maria wrapped the pastry in ricotta cheese.

  ‘You know my grandmother used to make this for me all the time when I was a little girl,’ Maria said.

  ‘My grandmother still makes it for me; along with her minestrone, fennek stew… and pretty much every other Maltese dish you can think of.’

  ‘What about a torta?’

  Jacob scratched his chin.

  ‘Hmm, not really anymore, actually. Now that I think about it.’

  Jacob took his eyes off the simmering sauce for a moment, and looked over at Maria who had several rows of ravujl already made and lined up into neat rows, ‘how much are you making? Even I won’t eat that much.’

  ‘You can have them for lunch tomorrow.’

  ‘Or you could take it home?’ Jacob suggested.

  ‘I’m on my special diet. I’m trying to lose a bit of weight for summer.’

  ‘You’re eating them tonight, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes but I’ve factored them into my calorie count Jacob!’

  Jacob looked her up and down. It was as if she had just made a joke.

  ‘You don’t have any weight to lose. Besides, you look fine to me. Doesn’t your grandmother make you eat like every other Maltese grandmother out there.’

  ‘My grandmother was the reason I was so fat growing up. The leftovers are yours, or I’m throwing them in the bin.’

  ‘Fine, I’ll take them. There’s no way I’m letting good ravujl go to waste. I’ll share some with the boys. I’m sure Pip would love to try them too.’

  Maria turned from where she stood behind the bench rolling ravujl, and gave him an odd look.

  ‘Everything okay?’ Jacob asked sensing that something was off.

  ‘You sure do spend a lot of time with that Pip girl, don’t you?’ Maria said as she turned back to look at what she was doing; fiddling with the dough awkwardly.

  ‘Yeah well we work together. So of course we do.’

  ‘But you spend time with her outside of work too.’

  ‘Spend time… isn’t the way that I’d put it. I mean, it’s usually not just the two of us. You know Thomas likes to organise stuff - and he’s dating her best friend. Sometimes we all just end up hanging out together.’

  ‘Oh yeah? What about when you walked her home the other week?’

  ‘That was one time. She wasn’t feeling great about being out on her own.’

  ‘And your little coffee date on Tuesday?’ Maria rose a confronting eyebrow.

  Jacob turned off the stove; as the sauce was pretty much ready, but also he was barely taking care of it at this point.

  ‘It wasn’t a date.’

  ‘Then what was it?’ Maria asked giving him a look that Jacob knew meant that she was demanding an answer.

  ‘It was just…’ Jacob fumbled.

  ‘It was just what? Huh?’

  Jacob paused, trying to be careful about how he proceeded with his answer.

  ‘We were just catching up about some stuff. I didn’t realise it would concern you.’

  ‘I’m not concerned,’ Maria folded her arms, ‘But I don’t like it.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I… didn’t mean to…’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Maria replied, ‘I’ll get you back for it.’

  Jacob was momentary relieved, but a moment passes quickly, and that relief vanished almost as fast as it had come.

  ‘Get me back? What do you mean? Like, you’re going to go get a coffee with another guy?’

  Maria scratched her chin.

  ‘I don’t usually subscribe to the eye for an eye punishment.’

  ‘What kind of punishment do you subscribe to?’

  ‘A head for an eye,’ almost before she had finished what she was saying, Maria picked up one of the small triangles of cheese-filled pasta. She stared down Jacob with a childish grin, watching his confused look, and before he knew what was happening, she pegged it across the kitchen. The soft shell hit Jacob in the face and cheese splattered all over his forehead. Jacob wiped the cheese from his cheek and forehead as Maria started laughing; then she quickly dashed out from the kitchen into the living room fearful that Jacob might retaliate by throwing one back at her. Jacob couldn’t help but let an equally cheeky smirk break out on his face as he ran after her through the living room closing the distance between them in a second. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her onto the couch in a gentle embrace. The two of them began laughing in unison as Maria turned and slid her arms around Jacob’s back.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Jacob whispered into her ear, ‘I really am’.

  ‘It’s fine,’ Maria said before she licked a piece of ricotta cheese off Jacob’s cheek, ‘and I don’t mean it to come off as harsh, but when you go on your little dates with Pip; or catch up with her, as you call it, it really does bother me.’

  ‘I understand,’ Jacob said even though he felt his heart sinking into a deep pit of nothingness.

  ‘It’s not that I don’t want you to talk to her or anything. And if you’re out with your friends all together, I mean, that’s fine. It’s when you two are together… alone… just don’t do it anymore. Please.’

  ‘I won’t. I promise.’

  And Jacob meant it. Although he couldn’t help but feel hollow about it.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ***

  Work was a little quieter than usual on Monday morning, or so it seemed.

  ‘Jacob,’ Pip said running after him heartily as he strode through the office towards his desk, ‘you didn’t get my message about coffee this morning?’

  ‘Oh hi Pip,’ Jacob said as he turned around to face her. He did his best to put on a fake smile. ‘Umm, no. Actually, I woke up pretty late, so yeah, I wouldn’t have been able to get coffee.’

  Jacob turned and continued to make his way through the office. Pip followed him eagerly. Pip noticed that he held a takeaway coffee cup in his hand, though it wasn’t from Tierra Madre. He’d clearly gone to a different cafe. Pip tried not to let it bother her.

  ‘Jacob, Martha isn’t here today. You can relax a little bit.’

  ‘Oh that’s a relief,’ Jacob said without turning around.

  Pip didn’t stop following him.

  ‘I was thinking we could talk about my article. Maybe. As my white knight you are obligate to protect my writing from any evil criticism; and I know my mind has been flipping back and forth, but I think I’ve decided that I want to do something with it. I really mean it this time!’

  Jacob dumped his bag down at his desk and turned on his computer.

  ‘That’s great. I’d love to help Pip, but I’m pretty swamped. Martha might be out; but she still manages to put pressure on me to get stuff done.’

  Pip was a silent. She waited for Jacob to continue, but he didn’t. He just sat in his chair and waited for his computer to boot up.

  ‘Okay then. Well maybe we can go over it during our lunch break? That might be easier for you?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Jacob said without looking up.

  ‘Okay, sure,’ Pip said as she solemnly turned and made her way back to her desk.

  Pip had lunch on her own that day.

  She couldn’t remember what excuse Jacob used to get out of eating with her, but whatever it had been, she knew it was a lie. Pip spent the rest of the afternoon at her computer hoping Jacob would come and interrupt her; talk to her about something, anything. But he didn’t. And suddenly, in the span of a few days, her workplace had gone from fun and interesting, to dull and boring. Not a day had gone past since she’d transferred into the department when Jacob hadn’t snuck over to her desk to banter with her, or argue about which pop-culture character was the coolest; and neither had a day gone past when she hadn’t swung past Jacob’s desk to ask him how he was going. Without him, she released, this place was really boring. All she could hear was the tapping sounds of people typing, the clock ticking, and an odd buzzing noise. The day passed slower than it ever had.

  Pip got less work done that day than she ever had since transferring over. She couldn’t stop thinking about what might have made Jacob so cold toward her. Was it something she had said? Pip sent him a message that night, as she lay on her bed, in her neat sunlit room. She was hoping that she had imagined everything that had happened, that Jacob would reply in his usual cheery way; and put her heart at ease. But he didn’t. And Pip didn’t know why.

  It was microwave macaroni for dinner that night. She ate it in her room instead of the living room. As the sun was setting; she looked up at a quote she’d painted a few years ago in beautiful colours, and hung up on her wall.

  This too shall pass.

  It was a quote that she often looked at to get her through tough times. When she felt like things were hard, or that they seemed like they would never get better.

  The truth was, Jacob wanted to reply to that message. He’d wanted to swing by her desk and argue with her about pop-culture. But he had always felt guilty. Guilty about how well he clicked with Pip, guilty that he was spending so much time with her, even before his conversation with Maria. And after his conversation with Maria, he had no idea how to interact with her, how to speak to her, or how to banter with her. And so his solution was to avoid her altogether, and hope that maybe she would just forget about him, and stop thinking about him. But Pip wasn’t doing a very good job forgetting him.