Chapter Five: Stalling Blindly.

One week at his computer since he was assigned the job, and in the last five days he had barely written four tweaks to what he had before. He was stuck again.

Rebeca and Nieves curiously glanced at the computer screen every time they passed behind it. Rubén noticed and looked at them warily. The girls barely blinked and fled under the blond's gaze.

Enric picked a random volume from the saga and pinched the flap, letting the pages flip quickly under his thumb. He stopped on a page; the main drawing showed a clearing with scattered trees and winding paths. He squinted and imagined the image filled with green tones. Then he remembered a day when he had the same problem back when Soraya was still alive. In a small park next to his house, they had planned to rest but both had brought their work. They ended up looking at each other's work and suddenly inspiration struck them both. As if wanting to relive that again, he looked around at his colleagues for someone to draw from, but they all worked on the same thing and he felt disappointed.

"Rubén!" he tried to call his friend in a whisper, "Any park to mentally disconnect from the ideas that won't come?"

"El Retiro!"

"What did you say?" Enric was surprised, thinking he was commenting on something in front of him.

"Go to the Jardín del Buen Retiro!" the guy gave him a look full of obviousness, "It's great against tangled thread syndrome!"

"That Retiro, of course!" Enric was slightly surprised by the idea. He was looking for someone to exchange opinions with, but someone in the same job wouldn't do, so since he didn't know anyone outside of work, he had to stick with that option.

But did he really not know anyone besides his colleagues? Patricia's face came to mind, and her radiant smile inspired him—why was that?

That same afternoon he set out to follow Rubén's advice and arrived at the Jardín del Buen Retiro to take a walk. It seemed too big to be called a garden—ironic legacies of history.

He walked for a long time toward the pond. It was around six-thirty in the evening, and the sun no longer peeked out despite the light. It was a normal Thursday in early November, and the trees that still looked lush wore grayish green, dark green, many shades of brown, and all kinds of colors between burgundy red and feather yellow. The grasses on the ground showed their usual dull green.

Upon reaching the pier promenade, he leaned on the railing; the last remnants of light reflected an orange sky in the water. The promenade's streetlights were already lit, and the carp scales barely reflected that light with their movements.

Although he was slightly hypnotized by the grace of the fish's movements, he decided to continue walking. In another fifteen minutes, he was at the pond of the Crystal Palace.

He decided to sit on a bench, and the one closest to the pond was free. He took one of the books and looked through it again—still no inspiration.

But that faint feeling of joy and hope he already knew returned to him. Simple white sneakers appeared below the book, and he knew without looking up who it was.

"Interesting read, Enric!"

A familiar female voice made him look up with a smile on his face.

"Patricia!" He was so eager to see her that he could barely hide that he had thought of her that very morning.

The girl, slightly leaning forward with her hands on her knees, blinked in confusion. The light breeze brought a bit of chill and cradled the waves of her hair gathered in two ties at chin level.

"Oh, did I scare you?" she straightened up and put her hands in the pockets of her skirt, folding her loose plaid shirt.

"Honestly, a little." Enric gave a crooked smile with his sincerity, and Patricia laughed.

The sky was getting darker, and the trees barely let the color of their canopies be seen.

She offered to walk him around the pond if he agreed to a date, and Enric didn't hesitate to accept. During the walk, they talked about everything and nothing, about Madrid and how little the young man knew of the capital.

"I want to get to know Madrid," Enric said while looking at the horizon, "I never needed to come, and I never liked tourism." He stopped and looked her in the eyes, "I barely know a couple of places since I arrived," he admitted.

"There was something I wanted to ask you the other day when we met," Patricia wanted to change the subject, "but I'm afraid it won't be mutual," she admitted in a whisper.

Enric searched his pockets for his phone, opened the contacts app, and handed her the device:

"Write it down," he ordered efficiently.

Patricia smiled; her eyes radiated a warm and welcoming light. She took the phone and entered the number. Had he read her mind? She handed the phone back:

"Save me however you want, you choose."

He took his phone again and laughed confidently, tilting his head slightly. She tried to guess what he had written and peeked, but Enric was faster and locked the phone.

"I wanted to exchange numbers with you, I'm glad you read my mind."

Then he leaned toward her and whispered in her ear:

"We were thinking the same thing."

Patricia slightly turned her face as her body asked, her lips began to part wanting to kiss him, but she was met with Enric's childish look of satisfaction, and her surprise burst forth.

"Is that how you flirt?"

Enric awkwardly stepped back. Was he flirting with Soraya's sister? He was ashamed of his body's reactions and took a few steps away from Patricia.

The girl found Enric's clumsiness amusing and continued walking with him, keeping the distance she assumed he wanted; they walked around the pond as agreed.

Strangely, Enric felt curious even though he never had been, probably because he wanted to know why Soraya had never spoken to him about her family, nor had her family mentioned him, as Patricia hadn't recognized him at all.