Tuesdays were the days he rode the elevator to the seventh floor with her. She didn't pay him much mind at first, but she was polite to him. She was always so polite; it was almost to a fault. Many would accuse her of being a pushover, but she stood firm 

It began with tentative, murmured hellos; neither wanted to bother the other. Several moments of awkward, pregnant silence followed these shy greetings. She chewed her thumbnail as she thought of a conversation starter and tried to hide how nervous she was. He didn't notice her nerves, as he was too busy trying to control his shaking hands.

After a couple of months, she gathered the courage to speak to him at last. She couldn't bear the thought of another elevator ride with this lovely man with only muttered greetings to each other. She had to talk to him, if only to see if he would be willing to talk to her, too. After he entered the elevator, she said the first thing that came to mind. "Beautiful weather we're having." This would be the first full sentence she said to him and she immediately cringed at her choice of topic. She was loathe to be that boring and unoriginal person who talked about the weather, but he didn't seem to mind. Much to her surprise, he seemed relieved, though she couldn't imagine why.

"It's getting warmer. Do you think spring's finally coming?" In all honesty, he didn't care what they talked about. He was just grateful she had broken the ice. Since he first rode the elevator with her to the seventh floor, he had wracked his mind for something, anything, to say to her. To tell her she had a pretty smile and smelled like flowers after a spring shower sounded too dorky even to his ears. He instead focused on trying to say something witty to break the ice. His daydreams had turned from being a superhero to saying something to make her laugh. He still wanted to be a superhero, but hearing her laugh at something he had said was a little more likely, but still hopelessly unattainable.

To his delight, she giggled at his question. Her laughter was as riveting and contagious as he imagined it would be. Now that she had tested the water and felt how warm and inviting it was, talking didn't seem as difficult. "I sure hope so. I'm sick of riding my scooter through the snow each day." In her delight, she said perhaps more than she would have in normal circumstances. When he raised a questioning brow at her, her cheeks turned a faint reddish pink as she realised what she said. She mumbled, "I live right down the street. Driving a car would be useless."

He hadn't meant to judge her, not by any means would he judge her. But the thought of this enchanting woman riding a scooter uphill both ways in the thick snowfall concerned him. It was a miracle she hadn't gotten sick. Her hasty, embarrassed explanation took some of that worry away from him, but he still fretted. So many things could happen on one's way to and from work, no matter how short the commute was. An urge to protect her from all the evils of the world swelled in his chest. He pushed it down, deep down, embarrassed that such a thought had entered his mind. He could only nod and mutter in agreement. He opened his mouth to speak, but the elevator rang out and opened its doors to the seventh floor.

She couldn't get out of there fast enough; she was terrified she would say too much and embarrass herself further. She muttered her usual goodbye to him and walked to her cubicle in brisk strides, grateful for the pile of papers in her inbox. They'd keep her mind from wandering back to that conversation. She still couldn't believe she had admitted that she rode a scooter to and from work, and in front of her lovely stranger, no less. If she was honest with herself, she knew the real reason she didn't have a car was because the thought of driving terrified her. She was aware it was an irrational fear, but she felt too small when she got behind the wheel. It was easier to maneuver her scooter through the streets because it felt closer to her size. There wasn't too much space for her to account for, which comforted her. Oh, now she was distracted with all this thinking about driving and scooters. With a faint smile, she went back to her paperwork, her previous conversation in the elevator all but forgotten.

He spent his morning in a daze. His mind worked tirelessly as he thought of several scenarios where he offered to accompany her home, but nothing he came up with seemed proper. He was sure she would think of him as some creep, but he hated the thought of her going home by herself, even if it was only a couple of blocks away. It wasn't until later that week that a stroke of inspiration hit him while he was mulling over his two o'clock coffee. He couldn't believe that it was so obvious, so simple. He hummed to himself for the rest of the afternoon, excited to put his new plan into motion. He only hoped it would be well received by her.

Office hours drew to a close that Friday and she was excited to go home. Her powder blue scooter was waiting for her in the far corner of the parking garage, looking out of place next to all of her colleague's cars. She strapped on her helmet and was about to pull out of her spot when a horn echoed through the parking garage, startling her. Turning towards the source of the noise, she was surprised to find him coming towards her on a yellow scooter. He smiled shyly at her and asked if she would like some company on her way home.

She couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face as she accepted his timid offer. She pulled out of her space and he followed her out of the parking lot. She didn't want to admit it, but she felt a little safer knowing he was there. She had taken enough self defence classes that she wasn't especially worried about anything happening to her, but it felt good to know there was an extra set of eyes watching out for her.

The five minutes it took for her to arrive at her apartment complex felt like seconds. She didn't want the trip to end, but she pulled into her usual space beside her neighbor's car and gave him a cheerful wave goodbye nonetheless. His shy grin returned to his pale face and he waved back at her before driving away on his yellow scooter.

His drive home went by faster than it usually did; he was patting himself on the back for a job well done. He hoped this encounter would pave the way for more interactions with his beautiful elevator buddy. His family had teased him for driving a scooter, but he felt it was more fun than driving a car. He loved the feeling of the wind rushing by him, the scent of fresh air filling his nostrils, and now his new scooter buddy. He had been terrified she would have been creeped out by his sudden appearance, but she seemed to enjoy his presence. At least, she had let him follow behind her. He hummed a cheerful tune to himself as he entered his home. The memory would stay with him for the weekend, or at least until he had to finish his work he had brought home.

The smile never left her face that evening as she went about her nightly routine. She wanted to tell the world about the drive with her lovely stranger. She ended up cooing the story to her kitten at bedtime, who stared up at her with disinterest. That weekend was lazy for her as she watched television and did some cleaning she hadn't gotten around to during the week. Occasionally, her thoughts would turn to that ride home, and she would smile at the memory.

Driving their scooters home together began as only a weekly event on Fridays, then it started occurring twice a week, three times a week, until it became part of both of their nighttime routines. He stopped staying after hours as often, and she stopped trying to be the first to peel out of the parking garage. Their elevator rides on Tuesdays became more animated as they started to talk more to each other, both gradually growing more confident in the direction their conversations turned from talking about the weather to complaining about work. He noticed she talked with her hands; she realised he listened to every word she spoke in that small elevator.

She headed out to her scooter one quiet spring morning and found him driving up to her apartment in his bright yellow scooter. The early morning sun bounced off his helmet as he offered her a cup of coffee and a smile. She accepted with a quiet thanks and took a sip of the coffee. It was sweet, but only just sweet enough to keep the bitter edge from it. She thanked him again and got on her own scooter to go to work. Suddenly the cool spring air didn't seem as cold as it did before. The ride seemed even faster than it usually did, but she didn't mind. She enjoyed every second of the journey to work that morning more than she usually did.

He rode with her every morning and every evening from then on, expecting nothing in return but the cheerful smile that made her jade eyes crinkle and the energetic wave she gave him in the evenings before he rode home.

It was a balmy, lazy summer day when she asked him what his lunch plans were. He was too sheepish to admit he didn't have any, that he usually went alone to the small coffee shop down the street and got a sandwich and a coffee. He was well liked in his department, but he wasn't the type to socialise. However, he wanted to impress his bubbly new friend. She seemed to get along so well with everyone that he felt more than a little pressured to be the same way. He made up something up. He had to meet with his boss about his latest project.

He was too invested in selling this story to her that he failed to notice the disappointed look that flashed across her face. She had spent the ride to work giving herself a pep talk to ask him out to lunch; she should have known he would be busy. The elevator opened to their floor before she could ask about his project. Instead, she forced a smile and wished him luck as she stepped over the threshold.

He spent lunch holed up in his office; he was too afraid of running into her to feel comfortable going to the coffee shop that day. She'd certainly ask him about his meeting and he wasn't ready to lie to her anymore. One lie was more than enough; his conscience had been berating him since the lie first left his lips. He had been kicking himself all day, cursing his foolishness. He still didn't know what had possessed him to lie like that, especially to her. He never wanted to lie to her. He felt like the worst kind of person. He didn't even know if she had believed his lie. The thought that she might have been able to see through his hasty lie terrified him.

She wasn't too concerned with his whereabouts that day; she was too naive to realise he had lied to her. She believed him when he said an important meeting. There was no reason to disbelieve him. She went about her day as she usually did, not paying his excuse any mind. She had meant to ask him about his meeting when she arrived home, but he had rode away so quickly that she just barely had time to wave good bye. She shrugged this odd behaviour off; he might have had an emergency at home. It wasn't her place to ask.

The next morning she had forgotten the previous days' events. He was relieved when she failed to ask about his meeting, but worried as to what that meant. Had she simply forgotten, or had she seen so easily through his lie? He would worry about that next Tuesday. They only really talked in the elevator, where they had nothing else to do, nothing else to focus on other than each other. They couldn't converse as easily when they rode their scooters together. They wished the other a good day as they parted ways. Their relationship didn't seem to be ruined by his small lie, for which he was grateful. He would have to make it up to her, though she was unaware she had been wronged by him. An idea came to him, but he wouldn't be able to act upon it until he was able to talk to her, properly talk to her, again.

Far too soon for his liking, next Tuesday rolled around and he was standing in the elevator with her. They both started to say something, but stopped abruptly, wanting to let the other go first. She laughed quietly at the confusion; his ears turned a faint red. A moment or two of charged silence had passed before she curiously asked him what he had been about to say; it was rare for him to start conversation.

He took a moment to choose his words. She waited patiently for him to speak. He cleared his throat and asked what her lunch plans were. To his delight and surprise, a tiny smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she said she didn't have any. He didn't want this opportunity to slip away from him after he had so carelessly thrown it away. As they stepped off the elevator, he asked if she would like to go to the small coffee shop with him for lunch. Her small smile broadened as she agreed and asked if he would mind her coming by his office so they could walk together. He reassured her that was fine and told her where it was on the second floor. They were both giddy with their arrangement but unwilling to show it in front of the other, too afraid to seem too attached. They waved goodbye and went their separate ways for the morning.

She couldn't hold in her excitement when she got to her cubicle. She danced a little victory dance to herself before settling into her chair, grateful that she seemed to be the first in her area to clock in. She didn't want anyone to ask questions about why she was so much more energetic than usual. It was against company rules to date coworkers, but this didn't count, did it? It was only a lunch date, after all. They were scooter friends, nothing more. She wanted to learn more about him, spend more time with him, before anything too serious happened.

He had spent the morning gazing at his work, thinking about meeting her for lunch. He was simultaneously terrified and exhilarated that she had said yes. He spent more time with her than any other woman his age outside of work; he thought he was too busy with his work to socialise beyond his close circle of friends. Her company was refreshing, he wanted to learn more about her.

A quiet knock sounded at his door and he rose to answer it, though he had a good idea of who was on the other side. His face moved of its own accord into a broad smile as he saw her grinning up at him. She asked if he was ready to go, she was alright with giving him a few minutes to wrap up whatever he had been working on. He shook his head and said he was good to go as he stepped out of his office, taking care to lock it behind himself. She smiled at this cautious gesture and fell in step beside him.

They didn't talk much on their walk to the coffee shop. They had asked each other how their morning and then let a comfortable silence wash over them. He didn't feel pressured to keep up a conversation and she was content with looking at the scenery around them. She didn't often go to places by foot and it was a refreshing pace from zipping down the streets in her powder blue scooter.

It was a good five minute walk before they turned a corner to the small coffee shop where he usually had lunch by himself. This was the first time he brought someone along to this tiny corner of the world that he considered his own. Most of his coworkers completely overlooked the coffee shop in favour of the fancier cafés that were closer to the offices. He opened the door for her and she thanked him as she stepped into the shop, letting the strong scent of coffee and pastries flood her senses.

They stepped into the short line to order. She gazed up at the menu, unsure what she wanted. She turned to him and asked what he liked. He pointed out his favourite item on the menu. She nodded as she read the description; even though she trusted his taste, she wanted to know exactly what she was ordering. After he ordered for himself, she stepped forward and ordered the sandwich and a coffee.

The cashier asked if they were together or separate; before she could open her mouth, he had his wallet out to pay for both of them. She offered to pay for herself, but he told her it was okay as he handed his credit card over to the cashier. As they waited for their sandwiches and coffee, she quietly thanked him for paying. He smiled and said it was nothing, he had been the one to invite her, after all.  

He led her to the window table towards the back of the store he usually sat at and pulled out her chair for her. She blushed ever so slightly at this act of chivalry and nodded her thanks as she sat down. He took the seat opposite her and began to doctor his coffee with the sugar packets that were at their table. She sipped her coffee black, not minding the slightly bitter edge the French roast carried.

Neither talked as they began to eat their lunch. It was a natural silence, a silence that didn't require awkward small talk to fill it. After a few bites, he asked if she liked her sandwich. She smiled at him and told him she liked it very much and thanked him for the recommendation, then asked him if he came here often. He nodded and admitted to spending most of his lunches at the small coffee shop. Her curiosity piqued, she asked if he was usually alone. The thought that he might bring other people along made her feel unexpectedly deflated; she hadn't realised this wanted to be a special outing. She was delighted when he nodded and said he used the hour to escape from the stress of the office. Once he said this, he wished he could take it back. He didn't want her to think less of him for needing an escape from the stress of life.

To his surprise, she nodded thoughtfully at what he had said. She asked if she might be able to join him for lunch from now on. He smiled broadly and said her company would be welcome. Sometimes the small coffee shop felt lonely to him, especially in the little back corner where he sat unnoticed. With her sitting across from him, the small coffee shop was transformed into a cozy little world of its own, completely separate from the cold, intimidating office where he spent most of his time.

She beamed at him, pleased with his enthusiastic reply. She had been afraid her company would infringe on his escape, but knowing he wanted her around felt good, much better than she thought it would. The rest of the lunch went by quietly as they finished their food and coffee. She would occasionally point out a person or a thing on the street she found interesting and he would peer out of the window to see where she was pointing. Eventually, he would point out things he found fascinating as well and she laughed delightedly, glad that he was joining in her little game.

Much too soon for either of their liking, the lunch hour was nearly over and they had to walk back to the office building. She thanked him again for lunch and he thanked her for joining him, then they parted ways with more than a little reluctance.

After their nightly ride to drop her off at her apartment complex, she mentioned seeing him for lunch the next day before he drove off. He remembered he had meetings with his boss on Wednesdays during his usual lunch hour. He told her this, apologising profusely that he wouldn't be able to spend lunch with her on Wednesdays and the reason why. Her brows knitted in concern, she asked what he did for lunch on Wednesdays. He confessed to having a snack drawer in his desk just for Wednesdays. She laughed and told him about the candy stash she hid in her own desk. He chuckled and headed home on his scooter, waving goodbye to her as he rode away.

The next day after his meeting, he found a small brown bag on his desk with a note attached with a pink ribbon. He opened the folded piece of paper to find small, neat, curvy handwriting. "This is for your secret stash—try not to eat them all at once!"

Intrigued and wondering what exactly he would find, he opened the bag. She had made him brownies; upon further inspection, they had chocolate chips in them. He smiled, touched that she had done this for him. He set a brownie out to munch on while he worked, putting the bag into his snack drawer to get rid of any temptation. No matter how hard he tried, he managed to eat half the bag of brownies before the office closed for the day.

That evening before they began their ride home, he thanked her with a tentative, quick hug. A light blush coloured her pale cheeks at the gesture and she returned it with a more confident hug, wrapping her arms around his waist and giving him a quick squeeze. Both flustered by this strange new interaction, they began their ride home.

Every Wednesday, she would deliver a batch of brownies while he was in his meeting and attached a note to it, sometimes with silly jokes written in them, but most often words of encouragement to get him to the end of the week. He would always make sure they lasted him until the end of Friday.