Girl Crush ☞ h.s.

[three]

Ash.

He still has a tight grip on her lower forearm as he drags her to her desk. "This was supposed to be done hours ago," he hisses as he points to all of the files on her desk. "You were to have these done before I came in this morning," he demands. His tall frame towers over her, the anger literally radiating off of him.

"I can explain," she squeaks. He shakes his head, raising his free hand. He doesn't want excuses. He wants the work done properly.

"It will be done by the end of the day today. You don't want to lose your job, do you?" He asks, leaning down to come face-to-face with her. She shakes her head no, cheeks flushing. His nose is inches away from hers and she doesn't know if she should hate it or like the new forming feeling in her belly.

"You don't mind others personal space, do you?" She retorts in almost a whisper. The mans face is priceless, anger regaining and grip tightening. But before he pops off another word, he drops her arm and retreats back to his desk. Her chest still feels heavy as she sits down in her chair. It's absolutely impossible to get all these files done today.

•••
Harry.

The girl had over half a stack of files left with only thirty minutes of the work day left. So, she composes herself and works up the courage to stride over to his desk. He smirked to himself, loving the way she struggles. He knew she couldn't do it, she'd come back begging for something before the end of the day.

She towers over his desk, fiddling with her own fingers. "Is there something you need?" He asks, though he never looks up from his work. The girl's face screws into a funny expression, her embarrassment getting the best of her.

"Sir," she whispers. He looks up at her pleading eyes and her red cheeks. She's beautiful and he can't deny how unbelievably attractive she is today. He watches her squirm under his gaze, knowing he's won. He always wins.

"I need your help," she says to him. She touches the smooth surface of his desk to distract herself from the embarrassing neediness she has. She rubs the corner in slow circles. Harry wants to snap, to smack her hand away. She needs to keep her wandering hands to herself. But he just watches.

"Of course you do," he mutters. His eyes never leave her, but she doesn't notice. "Tell me why," he prods. He knows why, he's just a dick sometimes. That's how he works.

"I can't do my files properly like you asked. It's impossible," she says. Her voice is almost a whine, still quiet and sweet. This time Harry's the one to get all flustered. Her innocent voice making his spine tingle. "Can you help me?" She asks. Her gaze finally meets his.

Her doe eyes pulls a trance over Harry and his stomach goes warm. Warm like when hot chocolate sinks to the bottom of your stomach and it makes you sleepy. Warm like when you lay with someone under the covers. Warm like her.

"Of course I can, Ashton," he whispers, focusing more on the warm in his stomach than his own words. Her face twists into a smile, "It's just Ash, sir."