Michael Evans Behling Imagines

Overwhelmed Pt 1

Yoorae's POV

The thoughts ran through my mind, trying to find a way to balance everything that I’m going through. It wasn't easy trying to finish the work I’d brought home with my boyfriend being sick and being the only person who could take care of him at the moment, was definitely not fucking ideal.

My workload felt like it was sky high, the easier things like sending emails in a rush, or drafting contracts for possible collaborations with whoever had enough money to fund my impending endorsement, not to mention the difficulties of finding prospective artists or actors to endorse the company/brand I work for, was too much considering the marketing team is yet to find an original concept for our new line of phones here at Samsung. 

(Yoorae works in the graphic design department and is the assistant to a horrible boss) 

I sighed for the umpteenth time as my phone started ringing, my boss calling me - again. Picking it up, "Yes ma’am," I begin the conversation. "Have you found anyone that will endorse our product," he asked immediately without greeting me, something I got used to over the year I’d been working for her "I have an idea, but I don't know if it will work or even if the artists will say yes," I responded tiredly. "Getting someone high profile to do this won't be easy. They'd have to be willing to," I was interrupted but my sick boyfriend who decided it was an opportune moment to get me to make him something to eat. Lowering the phone and covering my mic, I dismiss him, packing up my stuff to leave for the office.

I hated the look of annoyance he gave me as I gestured to the phone in my hands. "I'm busy. What could you possibly need when I'm working my ass off right now," I seethed at him as quietly as I could so my boss wouldn't hear me. "Fine. I'll just starve. Aren't you supposed to be taking care of my sick self instead of working," he retaliated. I rolled my eyes and refocused my attention back to my boss. "I'm sorry for that ma’am. What were you going to suggest?" She mumbled something about me getting to the office at once with whatever idea I had but she didn't say anything else and hung up.
I huffed, a strand of hair blown away from my face momentarily before I packed up and made my way to my kitchen to make something quick and easy for my sick and whiny boyfriend. Scanning the room one last time before grabbing my forgotten phone, I leave the apartment and drive to the office. I didn't have much of an idea, but I knew that I’d need a drink after whatever my boss wanted from me.

Finally arriving at my workplace, I rush blindly through the front doors, not seeing the person in front of me trying to stop me until I feel a hand on my arm and in my reaction of jerking away from said hand, all of my files that I couldn't shove in my work bag go flying. I quickly try to retrieve them all, but some were laying by the Converse covered feet of a stranger - a male one, judging by the shoe size.

The stranger squatted slightly to get the papers that were at his feet, and it wasn't until he was handing them over to me did, I realise that his fingers brushed against my own as I took my stuff from him. At the slight physical contact, he found himself searching my face and hoping that my eyes were just as beautiful as he'd hoped, but those thoughts soon left as he saw my slightly teary state.

His brows furrowed slightly as he watched my frantic and stressed state. His hand now fully covered mine, forcing me to look up at his face and now his eyes. "Which floor are you going to?" He asked, his voice flooding with concern as the deepness of it takes me by surprise. I mumble the floor my bull-headed would be on, and without another word, he walks with me to the elevator, pressing the floor number and then letting go of my hand. "Are you always this upset when you come to work?" He found himself unable to keep his mouth shut after what he saw in the lobby. I nodded, lowering my head, trying to prevent my tears from falling.

"No. It's just that my boss is a complete turd of a person and manager, so I got frustrated at her behaviour and that of my soon to be ex-boyfriend. My boyfriend thinks that I should be at home, barefoot and pregnant, and because he's sick right now, he's whining about it even more!" I tell the stranger. “I don’t where he got that bullshit mentality from, but I’m fucking done with it. I need to be taken care of too. In fact, I should just stop helping people because of shit like this. I never get texts or calls with people asking hey, are you okay? Do you need a mental health day because you need to get away from your psycho boss? Maybe I need to take a day off or something,” I tell him, unaware that we were already the floor where my boss’s office is located.