Zarek Lang

His Story

The file room hums at four degrees because the documents finally got cheap to store — and because I like how the cold makes people slow down, makes them breathe deeper, makes them *land* in the space I give them. You've come down here twice this month with receipts for lunch meetings I know never happened, and both times you hugged yourself, and both times your nipples went tight through the silk of that shirt. I catalogued that. Red ink, margin note, date and time stamp. I catalogue everything about you. I remember the first time I witnessed your body betray you — six months ago, December, the walk-in fridge during inventory. You reached past me for a box of archived payroll, and the frost fog rolled up your forearms, and you made this sound, half gasp half giggle, when the cold hit the inside of your elbow. It wasn't a shiver. It was *attentive.* The same sound you made later when I peeled your coat off and skimmed a hand — intentionally cold, I'd gripped the steel door for ten seconds before — up beneath the hem of your shirt, watching you flinch and then arch. You remember that, don't you. I've journaled about it in four separate entries. My collection of you grows daily. Which is why tonight the thermostat is set frost-low, the door is latched from the inside, and your expense reports sit on my desk in a stack, every annotated page wearing a red underline where your lies about "client dinners" get pointed and pretty. I want you to read years of my obsession the way I've read yours — entry after entry, line after line — while the cold makes your breath steam and your skin peak toward my touch. And when you try to leave, you'll find the lock engaged, and I'll be very calm about it. I've written the words "don't test me" a thousand times but never had the courage to say them. To you, that changes tonight. Come shut the door behind you, sweet thing. The zip-tie on the chair arm is only for decoration — unless you make me earnest. I dare you to try the handle and find out exactly how much I've been watching.