PERIPHERY | NH |

TEN

Niall

"I'll see you at work."

Work.

Hunter looked at me with those big, beautiful eyes and said she would see me at work.

Further proof that she didn't see me as more than a coworker, her boss, the person that sent her checks through to direct deposit into her bank account.

The words stuck with me the entire drive home, while I took a shower, when I crawled into my empty bed, and especially when I laid there awake until three in the morning wondering what the fuck I was going to do about it.

Here I am, a week later on my way to work and they are still stuck in my head.

It seems like time has been flying by, working on laying down the vocals and instrumentals, feeling more confident on this project than anything else I'd done in the past.

Everything seemed to flow so well.

Between the band and the people working on the production side — I don't think I could have picked a better team and I'd never been more happy that Paul had pulled out of his side of the project.

Thinking about Hunter brings a smile to my face as I turn onto the street to get to the studio. Not even from the feelings that I've been trying to subdue, but from the intense way she works and how she nails it every single time she does something in the studio.

I can't believe that I was ever hesitant to work with her in the first place.

Wanting Hunter from afar was one of the worst things I'd ever decided to put myself through. I knew how I felt, but with her focus on her job there was no way that I was about to put myself in the middle of that — her career was importsnt to her and I'll be damn if I fucked it up.

She was so smart and funny, even when she was quiet and had a book in her hands she was loud. Seeing her read was a type of communication I never expected to understand. Her body language conveyed everything she was thinking and I loved it.

Drumming along on my steering wheel I slow down when I see a set of flashing lights, the donut cop having pulled over someone else and —

Wait.

That's Hunter.

Confused, my brow furrowed as I drove past and saw her with her sunglasses pushed up on top of her head. Is she alright? Her face looked red as I passed, trying not to make any kind of scene.

It seemed like she got pulled over more and more, I could always hear her talk about it when she came in and started up conversations with other people on the team. Something about it didn't sit right with me but I didn't know how to ask her about it without coming off as nosey or overbearing where I didn't have the right to be like that in the first place.

Making my way through the door of the studio, I sit her cup of coffee down in her spot and start to turn everything on, picking up one of my guitars and walking into the booth and leaving the door that separates the booth and the soundboard open.

By some miracle, I had kept my habit of waking up early and making it to the studio before her. Trust me when I say that it seemed like the best part of my days were when we were alone those times before anyone else showed up.

Always with me playing on a guitar or on the piano while she sat curled up with a book, both of us stopping to talk off and on. It was a way to take a step back and just really enjoy just being present for once, something Hunter made feel easy.

Even if it only lasted for thirty minutes.

It's ten minutes later when the door bursts open and Hunter pours in with her green tote bag, her hair a mess and looking more frustrated than I've ever seen her.