John just hums. He could’ve nodded to confirm what his nephew was implying him to do as the adult between the two but confrontation wasn’t his strong suit. Especially when his sister is involved and so the minutes they had that day became hours which turned days without much of a progress at all. 

Work was a nice excuse to avoid home. The eight-hours he spend in the office, typing words he doesn’t care and counting numbers that numbs him hadn’t been a torture compared to the knowing glances Luis have shared with him. 

The disappointment suffocates him with each unsuccessful attempt. 

He sighs and readjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t avoid slouching anymore which he resigned by reclining on his office chair, checking the clock hanging on the wall while gritting his teeth at the few minutes he had left until his lunch break. 

“John,” a coworker calls out to him and John looks away from the screen. 

“Yeah?” John replies back with a question, “what’s wrong?” 

“Can’t access some files in my account. I wanna know if it’s the same with yours,” Daniel tells him, moving closer to John’s desk. 

The distraction was welcome and Daniel hovered over his shoulder. Their faces nearer but there’s a distance John was uncertain on how to feel about. Daniel was a young man in a department filled with senility - including John. But while his coworker assimilated just fine, unfortunately, generational superiority still does happen.

The files have already been sent to his email and John clicks on it. He even downloads it. But the problem stems from the files itself. Regardless of how he tries to access the files, nothing could be done. 

“Try to have it resend or you can ask the boss for options,” John suggested which Daniel stayed put, looking like he had tasted something sour. A scowl, John deduces, and he leans closer to his desk and adds more feet between him and his coworker. 

“Did he do something again?” John questions and Daniel shook his head.

“No, not at all,” Daniel denies, “I don’t want to bother him with shit like this.” 

“He won’t mind.” 

“He’ll rant about spoonfeeding again.”

“You can always joke about the time he paid some interns to feed him after his surgery,” John brings up.

Daniel raises a brow and his expression changes to a grin. “And potentially get me fired?” 

“Of course. You’re taking too much space here.” John shrugs, trying to smoothen the smile on his face. But once his words slipped out of his mouth, John bit his tongue and refrains from cringing in embarrassment by his words. It didn’t help that it began to replay in his head, like a broken record. 

Like Daniel, his face began to emulate those who ate something really sour - likely contemplating his choices. 

Fortunately, his colleague checks the time on his computer, ignoring John in his dilemma. “Well, you look at that. We managed to waste our minutes talking nonsense and now it’s our lunch break.”