Burning Paradise

Chapter 4: Hungover

Airs' POV:

I watch Vanerya sleep, her breath slow and steady, her features softened in the dim light of my apartment. It's strange, having her here, just a day after meeting her. The bar tonight was supposed to be a simple team outing, a chance to unwind after a long week. I didn't expect to end up bringing her back to my place, but then again, I didn't expect to feel this torn either.

She's my employee, and I'm her boss. That alone should be enough to keep any thoughts or feelings firmly in check. Yet, here I am, unable to tear my eyes away from her as she sleeps off the alcohol. When she stumbled, barely coherent, it felt natural to step in, like it my duty to make sure she got home safe. I didn't trust anyone else to do it, not even her friend. So I brought her here.

She's beautiful, no denying that. But it's more than just her looks. There's something about her, something that draws me in. It's her passion and the way she expresses herself, the little quirks she has that I've noticed in the brief time we've interacted.

But what am I doing? This is dangerous territory. She's asleep in my bed, and here I am contemplating feelings that could complicate everything. Workplace romances are a minefield, and as her boss, I have a responsibility to keep things professional. But then again I knew what I was doing the moment I gave her that job.

I quickly glance over as Vanerya starts to move a little. Soon Vanerya stirs, her eyes fluttering open as she takes in the unfamiliar surroundings. Confusion clouds her features, and I can't help but smirk. She looks so vulnerable, so out of her element. It's a stark contrast to the confident, driven woman I saw at the office just yesterday.

"Good morning," I say, my voice low and controlled. She blinks, her gaze finally settling on me, and I see the flicker of recognition.

"Airs? Where am I?" Her voice is soft, a mix of bewilderment and apprehension.

"You're at my place," I reply, taking a step closer to the bed. "You had a bit too much to drink last night, and I didn't think it was safe for you to go home alone."

Her eyes widen slightly, and she shifts under the covers, trying to gather her thoughts. "I don't remember..."

"That's not surprising," I interrupt, my tone firm but not unkind. "You were pretty out of it."

She sits up, clutching the blanket to her chest as if it's a shield. I can see the questions swirling in her mind, the uncertainty. I decide to lean into it, to see how she reacts.

"Vanerya," I say, letting her name roll off my tongue, "we need to talk about last night."

Her eyes lock onto mine, a mixture of fear and curiosity. "What happened?"

I take a seat on the edge of the bed, deliberately close but not touching her. "We talked. About a lot of things. You were very... open with me." I let the implication hang in the air, watching as a blush creeps up her neck. "You shared things you probably wouldn't have if you were sober."

Her eyes widen, and she looks away, biting her lip. "I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do," I say, moving closer. "Last night, you started to tell me. Now, I want to hear it all."

She hesitates, glancing back at me, her face flushed. "Airs, I... I don't think..." She pauses for a moment.

"We shouldn't talk about this."

"And why shouldn't we?" I ask, though I already know the answer. Her father is a titan on Wall Street, a man who wields influence like a weapon. She's my personal assistant, a position I gave her knowing who she was and what I wanted from her but not anticipating this pull I feel towards her.

"Because, we barely know each other, and because starting today I'll start working for you."

I lean in closer, my presence dominating the space between us. "And yet, here we are," I say softly. "You, in my home, telling me how you feel."

She quickly pushes me away, "I was drunk." A quick sigh leaves her mouth as she runs her hands over her face.

"And now you're not."

There was a silence that fell over the room. Only our eyes spoke. This tension was dangerous. Dangerous not only for me but for her. In a short 48 hours this woman has made me feel things I haven't felt in months.