And I’m probably going to lie to you
Karen doesn’t date salesmen. When she first arrived at Dunder Mifflin, she could feel the grease in Andy’s voice and brushed off the insincere welcome and got down to work. It takes a while. She doesn’t really know why until she actually makes a sale and someone compares it to catching a fish and a flask of wriggling silver in the air (memories will eat you alive) makes her dizzy and confused.
Another thing is the suits, and the weird hobbies. She isn’t good at golf, and doesn’t like racquetball, and Andy could make any pleasant pastime a burden. She gets professionalism, but not the weird man-to-man after work drinks or the bizarre politics. The first month she feels like an intruder in her desk and reorganizes the supply closet, carefully replacing spilled paperclips (nobody will know she was there).
She sits at the desk grinding her teeth and staring at the same screen for two years and still doesn’t like to be in the office.
When Jim arrives she doesn’t get it because Jan makes sense to her and this guy doesn’t. She thinks if he was more serious they could be friends (he makes a face when Andy reveals his “secret” stash of vocal trio CD’s, and that’s all she really needs to know). So jello is kind of cool and there’s something about this guy that she’s not quite getting. But who understands anyone?
Holding his hand, dragging him into his apartment technically doesn’t count for anything but the next day he just smiles like he’s forgotten and grimaces when Andy tries to invite him for drinks later. (We will get so wasted, Big Tuna he's said and she frowned.). She smiles back and tries to forget the tingle of his arm slung over her shoulders. It’s weird because even when he’s drunk he’s still charming, and it’s getting hard to convince herself that that smile means just friends.
She gets used to his voice and likes that he turns around and grins a bit when somebody (Josh) does something obnoxious. She bites her lip and feels lucky like she’s in a secret club (these thoughts are secrets in themselves).
She can break a rule for a guy who doesn’t care if she beats him at video games.
So, it’s okay to follow him somewhere she barely thought about because he’s showing her a bit of himself and she can’t end up paired with Andy for the rest of her life. Stories are told with a certain inflection and he loves this place and he wants her become irrevocably twisted (it’s worth the risk).
After the first day in the office, it’s different like whatever made him warm and sweet got shaken and he stares at her like she’s some kind of puzzle. He meshes his fingers with hers and shrugs a little and she can almost see who he really is.
Weeks pass and he’s still polite and funny and not inappropriate (she’s developed a sixth sense for weirdos) so she lets herself be pulled in a bit more. So when he stares the other way she isn’t angry; she’d do anything to make him turn her way.
When she finds out about the past she’s almost relieved because he’s willing to talk to her so it can’t be that bad. He rests his forehead on hers and words are so reassuring when she can barely keep her eyes open. She sits in an office every day with a guy who calls her Carley, and the guy who stares at her while eating M&Ms. So going home and having him open the door for her is refreshing even when he stares ahead and she knows (he’s not thinking of her).
Things aren’t the same-even when she smiles or tries to play along with his games because she’s playing somebody else’s part and she can tell he thinks she’s bad at it.
She can tell herself anything (this is working) but something in is his face is distant and clinical like he’s trying to figure out how to break it to her. (I’m scared of what you’re hiding).
