𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋

hi

"Hi, Harry."

Your smile's something that's able to make one appear on my face so quickly. It's almost like natural instinct; you have an effect on me like that.

"H-hey."

Oh God, why did I have to stutter? You're a fucking idiot sometimes; pull yourself together.

People say blue eyes are the prettiest eyes on a person. I have to disagree. Ever since I looked at you, for a definite.

The brownness of your eyes is so deep and dark, like you're hiding something beneath them. Like there's more to you. I'm able to catch just a hint of it whenever the light hit them, showing off a colour like honey.

You're as sweet as it, after all.

"D'you mind passing me a cup?"

Your voice. God, I could go on about it forever.

The nimbleness of it. How delicate you are when you speak. Especially to me. A lot of people can be cunts in a space like this. I mean, for God's sake, this is an office job. No one should be in a good mood.

Yet you show up with one. All the time.

My hands are a little bit shaky when you ask me to do such a simple task. I have the overwhelming feeling of what would happen if I let you down, or embarrassed myself but luckily, I'm able to hand you one smoothly.

Then it's there again. That beautiful smile. You don't have dimples necessarily but the right side of your mouth crinkles just the smallest bit. It gives your smile a bit more heartiness to it. Let me know it's genuine.

"Y'know someone new's coming into the office," you attempt to get into small talk with me. It's a sweet attempt which never fails, your aura is so warm and orange. I already know that though.

I watch as you reach down slightly to be able to be level with the water dispenser. I want to look away, respect you. But I just can't. The devil on my shoulder stirs my eyes towards your body that was tilted at the most inviting angle.

Your backside poked up just enough for me to stare at it. How would I able to grip all of that into my hands? Your grey pencil skirt stopped mid thigh, letting what wasn't covered be bare.

Your thighs are quite big and I liked it. Do they match up with your long legs? Not really but everything that's on you works. Strawberry legs. Tiny little black dots in rows on your skin. The small little details of your body are just a few things that make me pay attention.

There's nothing I wouldn't give to hold those thighs, grip them until my fingerprints are bruised into your skin. While I'm fucking you and you're losing your voice because of how loud your moans are. Then I'd- I'd get those legs of yours and hold them up while I drill into you. Kiss as many of those dots as I could. While you're begging for it faster, harder.

Shit, I'm supposed to answer you.

"Y-yeah. Uhm... I'm the one that's showing them around," I speak quite quietly. Most likely without realising. I'm a pussy for that, I'm aware.

You stand back up straight, flicking your chest-length curls behind your shoulder. Your eyebrows raise in surprise. I can tell you had zero idea how to keep our conversation going. It's fine, because I don't know how to either. I'm boring.

"Try and sell this place well. Even though that'd be pretty difficult." After your words trail off, we simultaneously take a look around our tatty ass workplace. I hate working here (like most of us) but it gives me an okay pay. And a great view.

"Very."

A light laugh escapes your lips which makes me look back over at you. Your fucking lips. I just want to pull you in by the waist, stare into those gorgeous eyes and place my lips against yours. Not giving a fuck about who was there to see me. To see us.

"See you 'round, Harry."

Our chats are never the longest but I cherish every single moment of them. Because I feel as if we get a little bit closer to eachother with every single one.