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You eased into your office chair and looked at the tall stacks of finished and unfinished paperwork. The towers almost meet your shoulders and look much worse than the directors office. Your hand reached outwards, but not towards any of the works that needed your seal, or interview logs. Instead, it grabbed a small notebook, a gift from Collingwood once she graduated with the help of you and Buck.
The spine was wire and had a shiny black coat, the note book itself was around A5 size, and had a charred cover with a dash of amnestic juice. This was your last grip on your life before the foundation, before you were gifted this notebook you used old ruler paper to keep all of your feelings and past regrets wrapped up. It was also the only good reason you had to not do actual work, and home to your admiration towards... a certain co-worker.
Most importantly, it had your writing in it. You flipped through the pages drenched in scribbles, sketches and short stories, then back to your most recent piece, "Ethereal". You dug through your caved-in lab coat pockets and tossed a pen and your favourite lush iced flavoured represser on your desk...
"Damn it" you groaned
At this point, you hardly used it, but that doesn't mean you stopped. Amelia never liked it when the smoke flew into the air- even when you were dumb angsty teens; but especially around her father. You know it's killing you slowly... at least it's apparently better than a cigarette... In the smell department.
Your hand gripped the pen tightly as it wrote:
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Ethereal
Adjective
Extremely delicate and light in a way that seems not to be of this world.
"Her ethereal beauty"Ribbons of morning lace throughout the blonde hair and drape her face in welcoming light. Everyone in town adored who is now known as Emeile Banks. The folk rarely took their eyes off of hers that were like sapphires gleaming with dashes of hope. I couldn't blame them though, it was like she was other-worldly- No, she must have been. Something so perfect, so humanly unobtainable, so gorgeous inside and out couldn't have been created by any organism in this corrupt town.
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You stop scribbling on the pad when a knock comes to your door.
"Come in"
The door swung open, as soon as you saw Amelia you attempted to snatched the vape and shoved it into a draw.
"Y/n?"
"Mmmhm"
"I composed a few ideas I liked and...."
Her eyes frantically met mine, hoping her eyes were deceiving her. Rolling out from under my desk and tapping the tip of her foot was the disposable in all of it's smokey glory.
Shoot.
This was the second time today. You straighten yourself up. Clasp your hands together and stare at her long enough to make her stop staring at the ground.
"You were saying?"
Buck clears her throat and continues "I made a list of the new SCP's Site-19 will be researching... What were you doing while I was gone?" She pointed downwards, her face stern as ever.
"I was writing some uhmm... reports." You smiled with your teeth.
"Well, do you think you have time to review them? I'll need to know about any interviews we need to book." She was idoling.
"I don't have anything planned, I don't mind."
Amelia walked towards our desk, but not before kicking the device into the corner by the bin- and hauled a seat along with a few files next to you. Her hands placed them onto the desk, and spread them on the table. The files read, SCP-6113 The Transition Lake, SCP-3084, Seven Strangers at a dinner table, SCP-1404 The cereal bowl, SCP-662 The Butlers hand bell, and SCP-978 The desire camera.
"I grabbed a few more than usual, we had first pick of the new arrivals."
"Wowah..." You flip through the files. "These all seem pretty interesting, which ones did you have in mind Melia'?"
You love the feeling of making her smile, it lights up the whole room.
"SCP-662 seems rather intriguing..."
"We'll do that SCP then, I think SCP-978 sounds good too."
Your lips perk upwards, and you walk towards her, meaning to grab the files in her hand but instead graze her slender fingers, eventually wrapping your hand around hers.
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YOU ARE READING
OLD! The way she hates me {Amelia Buck x Fem!Reader}
RomanceMaybe it was how I acted. Maybe it was how I now flinched at her touch. Maybe it was the shake in my voice. One way or another. She knows. Oh, she knows.