"What are you doing?"

coffee

“What are you doing?”

Did he HAVE to ask me? As if the fifteen browsers, excel files and the photo editor on my computer were not enough to tell him I was trying to finish the report.  His silly question ruined my concentration and I accidentally deleted what I had written in the past hour.

Great, another Friday night in the office until the witching hour! No party for you, mister.

“The report,” I oozed.

I did not even look his way, thinking that my tone was enough to make him shut up.  I was wrong.

“Do you want some coffee?”

I turned to face him. He had been sitting next to me since last week, a new transfer from another department. We almost haven’t shared a word. But few looks we did. His brown eyes, deep like warm pools of coffee, spilled all over me. I wanted to shout at him but instead I smiled.

No, I grinned.

A grin no one has seen on my face for ages, the one displaying the sharp brilliance of my teeth.

His eyes became darker, just like I loved my coffee. No milk, no sugar, hot, bitter, rough on the lips.

The back of his chair hit the wall and he did not have anywhere to go.

“You know what? Forget the report.” I leaned to inhale the scent of fear and desire wrapped up in one. “I am going to do you first.”

tty3-winner

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