You found yourself at her desk early this morning. Not that it would be any different from any other morning. You always manage to find yourself instinctively drawn to her corner of the office, leaning over the top of her desk, talking to her, staring at her, telling her meaningless things just to get her to laugh or smile.

You break the ice this particular morning by telling her about an episode of Trading Spouses. She teases you, even though she’s sitting, leaning toward you as if you’re telling her the most important thing in the world. Or maybe your imagination is running wild. She jokes at you, informing you oh-so-subtlety about the lack of life you actually have. Not that you didn’t already know this. Your life is pretty pathetic at the moment. You’re pining for a girl whose engaged to another man. And somehow none of this seems to bother you because a soft chuckle escaped her throat, floats through the air, and warms your heart. Michael, of course, ruins the moment, but can’t destroy the contentment suddenly in your heart.

You try to work hard today. Not like you don’t everyday, but sometimes distractions tend to help. When Michael asks you to do something for him, you hand it off to Dwight as per usual. But this task, you realize too late, is too big to leave in Dwight’s hands.

You and Pam join forces together, as you seem to always do, and enter Dwight’s workplace to discuss the God-awful health plan he picked out for the office workers. You immediately tease Dwight with his office/workspace, just to annoy him as per usual, and she only looks up at you occasionally, smirking or rolling her eyes. But she ends your incessant bickering by placing her hand on your arm. The trail of fire she leaves behind ceases any further smack talk you may have. She asks Dwight, in a business like tone, about the terrible plan and you can only stare at her in awe. She’s breathtaking, even like this.

And then, you’re back to bickering with Dwight. Talking about perfect immune systems, antibodies, and raising one’s own cholesterol. She jokes and you’re happy that she’s on your side, that she’s always on your side.

You decide, after realizing fighting with Dwight is a losing battle, that a conspiracy may be the only way to get back at him. Standing over Pam’s desk, wondering if there’s an indentation in the floor from where you always seem to stand, you fill out your health care form by her side. You jot down the most ridiculous diseases you can think of like ebola, then stare down at her and her form. You casually inform her not to write down such diseases by you’re apparently already suffering from them.

Then, she laughs. A big, open mouth, wide grin laugh that makes you fall even harder for her. And you realize, any disease he might write down would have to be cured by that gorgeous laugh of hers.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when she tells you that she’s making up diseases for her own form. You drop your pen, giving her your full attention, hand under chin, as she asks the name for something about melting teeth and you quickly give her one. She nods, approving, impressed, and you know right then and there that you could do this with her for the rest of your life.

If she didn’t happen to be engaged to spend her life with someone else, of course.

You grab her form once you’re done making up and creating as many diseases as possible before you hand them back to Dwight. Only moments later does he burst out of his workspace and accuse his co-workers of forging medical documents. You stand at Pam’s desk as he lists the very things you just made up and watch as Angela, Kevin, Oscar, and Stanley enjoy the prank. He blames you personally, and you can feel Pam’s eyes on the back of you, supporting you, because she is always at your side. Dwight rushes back into his workspace in a huff and you can’t help but turn around and give props to the girl who created killer nano-robot.

The girl you wish you could call your girl.

Dwight interviews you and it takes everything you have to not laugh in his face. But when you see his keys atop the table, calling out to you, just begging to be taken, you can’t help yourself. You lift them off the table, stand to your feet quickly, ignoring all the Dwight has to say as you lock him in, tossing the keys casually onto an open shelf before collapsing back to your desk.

Dwight bangs on the glass for a good five minutes before he calls you. You answer, giving him the runaround, as you see Pam out of the corner of your eye pick up her phone. Your line beeps in and you know it’s her before she ever says a word. You have a vague, innocent conversation about the weekend, and the mall, and shoes and you revel in how normal this feels. You love talking to her, you could do it all day long, her voice is soothing and calm. Everything she says interests you. Even about shoes, even with Dwight shouting from the next room, even while she’s engaged to another guy.

She’s still the only voice in the world to you. And you fear she might always be.