The new girl, the new receptionist, the one with the curly hair and that glint in her eye like she’s half happy on the inside and trying really hard to be completely happy on the outside, is late on her third day. A Wednesday, he doesn’t blame her, but the phone keeps ringing and ringing and he’s still a little hung over because Mark told him it would be fun to drink on a Tuesday night and he’d believed him, because maybe he wanted to feel like he was still in college and this was still just a temporary period of stagnation.
Then she’s bustling in, bringing winter in with her even though the outside door is all the way downstairs. He can still feel the wind and the chill of it makes the hairs on his arm stand up and so he turns his body away from the door just a little like it would help. It doesn’t, his skin won’t stop feeling like there’s cold air surrounding him and so he turns back and catches her in the corner of his eye. And he’s warm, just like that, his body temperature goes back to normal and he isn’t sure how or why and he doesn’t want to think about it right now because he really doesn’t have time for curly haired coworkers who make him feel warm just by being in his periphery.
So he turns back to spreadsheets, discounts, types of paper, paper colors. All of those things that make his mind turn to nothing and the pressure behind his eyes build and build until he has to close them. And then he hears her knock something over, sounds like a pencil cup judging by the scattering sound of plastic and wood and then the pressure’s gone and he really still doesn’t have time for half happy/sort of discontent receptionists who knock over their pencils and make the mind numbing monotony of this job just vanish like that in an instant.
He opens his eyes and just decides to look at her and she’s blushing bright red and scrambling to get the pencils and pens back into their holder and she still has her coat and her scarf and her gloves on and he doesn’t even think about it, just instinctively stands up and walks over, helps her find the couple of pencils that have rolled deep under her desk. They bend down at the same time, bumping heads and he laughs and she looks sort of like she wants to cry.
He stands back up, presents the two errant pencils to her with a grin, says, “Found ‘em,” and then, “Hey, don’t worry, it’s your third day and you’re only, what?, fifteen minutes late.” She smiles, but he doesn’t believe it and, okay, he still doesn’t have time for, alright, sort of cute female coworkers whose smiles seem forced and all he wants is to make it seem real. Still, he says, “Also, I know for a fact that these pencils right here,” her eyes follow his hands as he gestures to the pencils in question, “are troublemakers. When I was doing my shift of filling in at reception before you,” and she smiles when he points at her overdramatically which makes him smile, “came along, they fell over twice maybe three times a day. So.”
She laughs, bends a little at her waist, ducks her head and doesn’t say anything in response. Then she looks up at him and says in this really quiet voice that sort of breaks his heart in strange ways, cracks feeling like they’re going in all sorts of directions and he isn‘t sure how to fill them back in, “Thanks.”
He’s back at his desk again, hands resting on his keyboard, but no letters being typed, because she’s taking off her coat and still sort of blushing and then she’s pulling off her scarf and when he expects it to be graceful, expects it to just slide right off of her neck in one flowing movement like it would in a movie or in any other standard type of seduction, it doesn’t. It gets caught a little on her hair and she has to pull it hard to get it all the way off.
Then she sits down, heaves a sigh, and turns on her computer. She looks over at him and he should look away, pretend he isn’t watching her, but it doesn’t really matter because she just smiles at him and he believes it and he really (really) doesn’t have time for pretty engaged friends or coworkers or whatever who make him feel like that.
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.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Sort of half inspired by the Evening Coming challenge. Except...this is in the morning. Forgive any typos and such as I just sat down and randomly started writing this and didn't read over it really at all.
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.
unfold is the author of 102 other stories.
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