Liam Hemsworth and Josh Hutcherson: Snow Day

The Only Part

     Cold and lazy: that's what I'm feeling right now. I'm sitting in the shower, and I don't want to go to work today. It's snowing hard.
    
     It's cold.

     I lie on the floor, the shower head continuing to run. I seriously don't want to go to work today, I don't want to go anywhere. I just want to stay home and do nothing.

     I finish bathing, put some clothes on—my home clothes—, and make myself a cup of coffee. I'm making it strong because I feel like it, and it's perfect for the weather. I've decided that I'm not going anywhere today. Not at work. It's snowing hard anyway.

     After I was done making my coffee, I sit on the couch, which was by the kitchen counter. The living area and the kitchen were in the same room. I live alone in an apartment. Except for when my boss visits. He often does. We'd watch movies here, talk about them after.

     We're close. I think I should be proud about that.

     Some time passed, I'm still on the couch, on my phone. I was supposed to go to work thirty minutes ago.
I finish my cup. Lie back on the furniture and heaved a breath of relief.

     I'm not usually absent, even when I feel like I'm as lazy as Belphegor, and I usually feel guilty when I do. But this time I don't. it's snowing. My absence is justified.

     I receive a text from Liam, my boss. Not in our office group chat, but directly to me.

"Where are you?" His message says. "I'm not going today," I respond.

"Nobody's in the office," he says.

"Wonder why," I respond sarcastically. "I need you here," he says. I laugh at my screen. He sends another text after a few seconds because I didn't respond. "Everyone I mean," it said. I snicker. "Come today," he sends another. "No," I respond. "It's snowing hard, nobody wants to go today. I don't,"

"You live fifteen minutes away," he says.

"Storm," he didn't respond. Then after a short while, I receive a text from our office group chat. It was Liam— my boss, I mean.

"I'm picking everyone up, be ready," his text said.

"Sir?" Sarah responds. Then he sends another direct message to me. "Get dressed," no. I don't respond.

     I don't get up. I'm not going, he can't make me.

     After a while–fifteen minutes, I assume—I hear a knock on my door. It's Liam. I get up and open it. He's wearing black jeans, and a thick jacket. I could see his tie behind it.

"Why aren’t you dressed," he asks. Speaking from behind the partly opened door. "It's storming," I say. He pushes the door open and gets in. He walked to the couch took off his coat and put it on the furniture.

     He wore a blue polo with a black tie. It fit him well.

     I was staring at him. I didn't realize he was staring back.

"Hey," he spoke. "Get dressed. Come on, " I scratch the back of my head. "No," I shake my head. "No," I repeat. "It's snowing, nobody want's to go to work," he puts both his hand on his waist. "I'm your boss, you need to do what I say," I scoff. "And you've got a lot work to do. Everyone does," 

"We'll do it. Not today. I mean, come on, you can make today a no work day," I say. He sighs and sits down. I sit with him. "You can stay here. You'll be my company,"

"No," he stood up. "No," he walks to my bedroom. "Where are you going,"

"Come on," he says as he enters my room. I get up and follow him. When I got to the door, he was fidgeting with something in my closet. Then he took it out. "Here," he says as he held it out. My usual white polo and brown slacks. "Wear this,"

"No," I walk to him. "No," I take it from his hand and I put it back. "No. I don't want to go," he scoffs and shakes his head. "Come on boss. Boss Liam," I say, teasing him. "Don't do that," he points. I smile. "Just— come on, let's just all not go to work today, relax,"

"You don't understand. It's important you get those work done quickly,"

"We can get those work done quickly just not today,"

"No. You're going,"

"No,"

"You are,"

"No," I exclaim by accident "You can't make me. I'm staying here," I continue. I shrug. He walks toward me, grabs my left wrist, looks me in the eye with a semi angered, annoyed face, and pulls me toward the closet. "Alright, take off that sweater,"

"What? No," he sighs and does it for me instead. "Hey— you're getting to comfortable, are you?" I grab his hand and stop him. "You're going," he says.

"No,"

"You are,"

"No. Convince me,"

     He let's go of my shirt, steps back a little, and then just looks at me in the eye.

...

     I thought I hit a nerve. But two seconds later, he's cupping my head, pushing me back, into the closet, and he's kissing me? Well, I saw that coming.

     Then our lips part, and we're both inside the closet. He looks at me, let go of my head. He stood straight. I'm not confused, though I am a little bit shocked. Just a tiny bit.

     Been waiting for that.

"I'm sorry," he says. It left his mouth slowly, it was almost a whisper. "Well that just made me want to stay more," I say. He snickers and then leaves.

     I follow him to my couch, we sit beside each other. Then he let out a breath for a small, quiet laugh. I look at him, my face still red. Then he turns his gaze to me, puts his palm on my cheek, looks at me straight in the eye again, and says "No work day."

"No work day," I repeat and laugh. He takes out his phone, types something on it, and after he was done, I receive a text from our office group chat. It was him saying "nevermind," I laugh at my screen.