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Story Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.



Maybe, for once, she’d be the one who got broken up with.
And maybe, for the first time in his life, he’d be the one to do the “breaking-up.”
But maybe, maybe, maybe, it some alternate universe, they’d both have the chance to say it’s never happened.
Author's Chapter Notes:
She needs to scream for her heart to realize what he's doing.

Set during Season 3. Each part will build up to Part V.
I.


It was cold that day.

She could feel blue shuffling through her veins and goading all traces of warmth to her fingertips as she pressed a charcoal pencil into her sketchbook.

A loose curl dangles in front of her eyes to distract her from the harsh realities of what she is sketching. She sneaks a glance and catches him sneaking one at her and she flushes sunset red. She swears she can hear him sighhh as she pretends to concentrate on her work because maybe he won’t realize that she can’t help but think of him, either.

Swift lines cover the minute weave of the eight and a half by eleven sliver of paper as her hand briskly moves, defining each line into a curve, shape, and being. She doesn’t know why she always uses him as a subject of her drawings. Whether it is his eyes, how his fingers fiddle with his tie, or the way he gives the camera a goofy grin whenever Michael pulls a “thatswhatshesaid”, Pam always seemed to drawing some facet of him and there was no end in sight.

And no matter how much she tries to convince herself that she focuses on him because there is nothing else, she knows, deep down in the ache of a midnight cry, that he’s the only thing worth making a dream about.

Abruptly, she reaches for the alluring mouse and clicks three times to open an instant message.


PBeesly: I miss you so, so much.


Her brow puckers as wishes she had the courage to do it.

Just one click.

Just one.

But she fights herself and loses.

Then she snaps her finger and with a click the message is destroyed in defeat to defy and she continues to draw his hand with hers.

She lets out a sigh and for a moment she feels lighter. Her heart flutters anxiously as she sees the beauty beneath her quivering hand. A tear crests her hazel iris and she clenches her lashes tight.

She catches herself before she peeks above her sanctuary of reception to once again snatch a glimpse of him. She inhales slowly and presses forward, knowing the only way to get through the day would be to shove the thick sketchbook under her desk and forget how each page is littered with Mrs. Pamela Halpert, scribbled hearts, and portraits of his flawless visage.

Maybe the reason she keeps seeing shadows without the sun, rainbows without rain, and stars with no moon is because she is so sick of being content with a life she can’t continue to muddle through.

Unexpectedly, he stands and takes a few steps to her desk, his eyes on hers. She looks up at him and blatantly smiles, the way she always does, because she needs him to think she’s happy.

“Do you have any extra rubber bands? I was going to ask Dwight but I figured he needed them for slingshots.”

“What, like I don’t need them for my slingshots?”

“Not really. Slingshots aren’t your thing. I was thinking you’d use paperclips to make swords. They’re more convenient and not to mention classy.”

“You know me too well.”

She reaches for a handful of rubber bands nestled between a stack of post-it notes and a role of tape. She hands him the clump and their fingers brush and suddenly goose bumps begin sprouting across her arms. She blushes and smiles to cover her bashfulness and he smiles, too.

He opens his mouth as if to continue the exchange, but feebly smiles instead and walks back to his desk. She has to grip the edge of her chair to stop from screaming out loud and thinks "Okay, okay, okay" over and over again to soothe her red hot cheeks.

She watches him with clenched teeth and squinted eyes as he pushes his fingers against his face and hovers over his keyboard, attempting to suppress a sigh. Dwight grins slyly at the intruding camera and mumbles something to Jim. Jim slowly turns his glance to meet her hazel eyes and they dart from his doleful gaze. She closes her eyes and wishes for words.

Maybe, if she tried a little harder, she could replace all the if’s in her life with a reason as to why she is wasting her life dreaming of someone who doesn’t dream of her.

Or so she thought.
Chapter End Notes:
Comments? Suggestions? Feel free!
Part II on the way...

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