three character studies: the king

when i first met him i thought i was dreaming. lucid enough the building guided me, empty and walls white as sheets, while behind my rubber soles i left a dirt stain on immaculate white floors. he was one of the first persons i met upon my arrival: i was absolutely mortified, in a state of cold sweat and hot flashes. i was scared. but he never scared me.
there was the boss. i suppose you would consider him to be the king, but i don't. he said he needed to get somebody else. this new somebody sat directly by my side. and i knew he would rule. 
he has never pressured me or ever made me feel the pressure of my own will, but i have struggled to keep his hopes intact. there's this implicit design and need for me to commit, something that has been weighing upon my morale for a while now. i didn't put much thought into his self until he started to remind me of somebody i knew. it wasn't bad, it was simply uncomfortable. i grew interested in his childish sense of humor, in his carelessness, in his calloused hands. the first physical feature that strongly struck me were the arms. he seemed to fragile in my eyes and then there were his arms, strong as steel. then came the squared jaw, then came the deep brown eyes; it was magnetic, i couldn't dare to say no. i then scanned slowly, over time, the remaining features. i came to the overwhelming conclusion that i always found him very attractive. there's a mixture of sweetness and vitality in his stoic personality. when we sit and chat and he adds too much sugar to his drinks i know he is watching through me. i try to relax but i can't. he doesn't let me. it seems like a fencing game. he's trying me, in order to get me to understand. he can see more in me than i thought. i always wondered why they would ever pick me, why they would want me there, occupying space, resources, time. why i was fit for the job. there's something he, and only he has seen. that's how he rules over me. he has timed my actions in his lazy way of scolding me for missing class. he has relentlessly built up a scaffolding for my making, but hasn't seen me in action. i have been working so hard to impress him. i have been working so had to understand why. my conclusion only adds to knowing that he sees himself in me. he supports this project even more than i might ever do because he knows how it feels. i think he could make anybody cry without raising his tone of voice. i think he has seen me cry. he has made it clear that he knows i isolate myself and hesitate. insistent, he claims that i need to listen to these ever re-ocurring casual coffee conversations. there's a watching eye, a predator, that has got its claim on us, ruling from the palace right at the end of the hallway.