Temporary Secretary

Part 18

2 February 1981

Monday 8:30pm

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It was bittersweet as your time at the office came to an end. It was your last week there.

You were in a comfortable corner of Paul's office, right by the window. You could hear as the cars rushed by below, the moonlight streaming in.

Paul's head rested in your lap as you leant against the end of one of his bookshelves. His face was serene, relaxed as you combed through his hair. His breaths were soft, fading into the quiet room.

Paul seemed to be at ease in the moment. Besides the time you'd initially given him your two weeks notice, Paul's general demeanor hadn't changed much. As you suspected, it would all be for the best.

You enjoyed being able to just stop for a minute to look at him, admire his beauty. Paul moved so quickly throughout the day, his mannerisms, his gesturing and quickly changing expressions. His attention wasn't well kept, even with talking. He'd lose himself in the conversation, jumping from topic to topic, his mind moving at a quick pace.

You could understand the feeling, which is perhaps why you got on well in conversation. You were the same way, always a skip ahead of the direction, going off on tangents, stopping a sentence midway just to reword it.

Maybe it didn't give off an intelligent air on your part, as if you were an impatient sort. Your mind just kind of skipped ahead.

But unlike Paul, you weren't so excitable, and you didn't show as much in your movements. You were composed, or a facsimile of that at least, in a physical sense. You sat up straight, your demeanor calm. But again similar to Paul, your focus was fleeting.

Regardless, it was the end of a Monday, the office calmer now. Paul took the moment to wind down, let himself rest on you, something you enjoyed providing a great deal. You weren't sure why. Suppose you did have such tendencies, to be the giver, to admire and take such a role in many aspects.

Paul's features were lovely, especially when relaxed. His weight was a pleasant one, his body warm and soft.

You ran a fingertip along the curve of his cheek. Paul shivered a hum when you played at the shell of his ear.

He was sensitive there, and had lovely ones too, even. Seashell ears, pink in the cold, like candies. It was as if they were made to be mouthed, to be bitten.

Paul giggled when you ran a finger along the slope of his nose. His head tilted upwards, his eyes opening only slightly.

"Fussing over me?"

Paul's tone was drowsy and sweet, causing a significant feeling within you.

You looked off to the side, feeling a tug in your chest.

"Course." You mumbled plainly.

You pushed the fringe out of his forehead, smoothing it back, your fingers combing through. Paul's eyes were shut, a pleasure to his features. His body was relaxed. He tilted his face into your palm. His skin was very soft. You stroked it, and Paul hummed.

Your time working here would end Friday, meaning this was your final week. Well... four days now.

Paul seemed to have taken the news well. It was all for the best. You would both go your separate ways.

You could still admire his beauty while you could, though. He was very beautiful, that much was known.

You rested a hand atop his chest, Paul's head resting in the crook of your elbow.