Left her childhood home, again. And swore that she is never coming back. Starting a new job in a different country sounded perfect. Until she met her boss, and now they have to figure out what are the feelings that they have for each other. The cher...
Cynthea swore that she closed the curtains when she arrived yesterday. She needed a good sleep, and the morning sun was burning her face now. She rolled over and buried her head into the pillow. Snippets of the last night were surfacing and disappearing in her consciousness. She remembered enjoying the drinks as if she has never had anything this good in her life before. Gala looked so beautiful whenever they smiled, and Cynthea's heart fluttered as soon as she pictured the light and fleeting touches they exchanged. This is my boss, she kept repeating over and over in her head during the night. And now she was thinking about Gala again.
Frustrated that the sun woke her up, and she was not able to fall asleep again, she got up and decided to take a shower to calm herself down. She quickly checked her phone that was charging next to the bed. It was a few minutes past ten o'clock in the morning. The timing was kind of perfect, as she needed to get ready for the first in-person meeting with the rest of her team. However, as soon as she got up, her head spun around, and her stomach uncomfortably swung up and down. This was not the first time she was a hangover, but with the tiredness from yesterday's travelling in combination with insufficient sleep, she felt sick and ran to the bathroom.
The rest of the day was in a haze. She had a really bad headache and, of course, she forgot to pack any kind of painkillers with her. There was not much time to find the nearest pharmacy because she spent quite a lot of time in the bathroom. And her nervousness was not helping the whole situation in the slightest. Cynthea was nervous for multiple reasons, including meeting her new colleagues and trying to remember their names. However, one of the reasons was right now waiting, sitting on a bulky armchair close to the elevator which Cynthea needed to use to get out of the building. She stopped for a moment and ran one hand through her hair, trying to smooth it out a little. She also cleared her throat, which did not make any difference because no matter how much water she drank today, she still felt parched.
As soon as her steps got close to Gala, their head turned, and their eyes met. The warm feeling Cynthea felt yesterday at the bar once again danced through her and painted her cheeks into a rosy colour. Gala got up and stretched out one of their arms, something rectangular was sitting between their fingers.
"You look like you need this, Thea," they said, and Cynthea realized what they were holding. It was a small box that looked like it contains some kind of pills. She was now aware of how the headache has been getting progressively worse. She felt weak and with Gala standing there, their perfect hair flowing around their shoulders and the elegant long fingers casually holding the box, she suddenly needed to take a deep breath.
"Thank you," she murmured, and wanted to take the pills. Gala pulled her arm away and gestured to the armchair they were sitting at just a moment ago.
"I think you should sit down for a bit. You are really pale." Cynthea was not paying attention to the words. As soon as she followed the hand pointing toward the soft cushion with her gaze, she started moving automatically. The exhaustion was sitting on her shoulders like a heavy rock, and the chair somehow transformed into a blob that was inviting her with squishy arms. In an instant, Cynthea felt like she is submerging into the depths of smooth fabric. She was sitting, and her head was spinning. She tried to breathe somewhat calmly while trying to open the water bottle with her shaky hands. Instead, a different hand took the bottle and opened it for her.
"Damn, you didn't even drink that much yesterday. Have you eaten anything today?" Gala asked and handed her the bottle with two pills placed in their open palm. Cynthea could only shake her head in response. Her stomach felt like a small boat on a stormy sea. She only managed to have a few bites of the snacks that were prepared in the meeting room.
"In that case," said Gala and the pills disappeared from Cynthea's vision, "this would only make it worse. You need to eat something first. Come one." Once they finished the sentence, they slid one of their arms around Cynthea's back and helped her stand up. Cynthea noticed how strong and muscular their body is. She could feel it even over the smart jacket they were wearing today. She tried to get out of their grip because she felt embarrassed about this whole situation. Her boss had to help her walk as if she drank her body weight in alcohol yesterday. But as soon as she hinted on moving away from them, Gala's fingers dug a bit deeper inside her skin. She could not help and giggled.
"That tickles," her cheeks turned scarlet, and she tried to hide it by dropping her chin and letting her hair flow down. The fingers on her side slipped to her lower back instead, and they walked toward the elevator. Cynthea tried not to lean into Gala, but her knee suddenly dropped, and Gala's hand caught her firmly. Then they pushed the elevator button. The entire time they were walking, Gala seemed tense and alert, as if they were waiting for her to slip and fall. Cynthea felt like her face is on fire. It was so humiliating, and definitely not the image she wanted her boss to have about her. She also tried not to sweat and embarrass herself even more with her disgusting human fluids. But it was a very warm afternoon and while they were waiting for a taxi outside, Gala still supporting her and not leaving her side, she could not help it. Her heart was beating loudly, and it was hard to breathe. How did this happen?
...
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