Insubordinate ( Gay ) ( BxB )

Chapter Seven ✓

              The next few days after that are boringly long. It's quiet. Coen is a touchy prick, so we clash every now and again, but it never amounts to much. Call it less than professional, but it was and is working for us, so I won't complain. We settle into a routine.

My schedule consists of waking up, going to work, then working until nightfall. When it's time to clock out, Coen takes me up into the lab to show me some little bits of equipment so I can get a grasp on it. After pretending to care, I leave and restart the cycle. I'd forgotten what it was like to have a job. My first day was eventful, but I fell straight into loathing it the day after. 

"Ugh." I groan under my breath. 

My eyes have become bleary. It's a Friday and I am thankful for it. I've been staring at documents for hours, sorting and filing at his say so. My head aches. I glance up to look at him. His eyes meet mine.

"What?" Coen asks, leaning back a bit. "Do you need something?"

"I need to be done." I say. "What time is it now? Like, six? Seven?"

"It's a quarter to eight." He yawns, tilting his head to crack his neck.

"Are you serious?" I say. "What are your hours?"

"We all work from seven or eight to whenever we want to leave after five. I've spent the night before, even. Muata doesn't care." Coen shrugs. "I have the means. We're fine."

"That's the opposite of my problem, genius." I say. "I'm done, is what I mean."

"Are you?" Coen glances down at the papers, some of which still yet to be filed.

"I'll do it tomorrow." I assure him, standing up to stretch. I can't remember the last time I'd left this chair in the past few hours. How did I lose myself within something so boring? I slide around the chair, swiping my beanie off of a bookshelf and pulling it over my head. I slide my phone out of my pocket and turn it back on. "I'm leaving. See you in the-"

"You're not." Coen interrupts, pushing himself back away from the computer and crossing his arms across his chest. "I said I would show you the lab equipment so we can make this work, yes? Remember?"

"What? No- I'm tired. I'm not going to remember if we do it tonight." I topple over my words quickly, less than willing to stay around. It was dark outside. Dark. I've barely seen the light of day since Monday.

"This is the job, Aaron." Coen says, drawling his words like he'd said it a million times. "Get used to it."

"Can we just skip it tonight?" I whine, crossing my arms behind my head, wincing in annoyance. "I'm probably twice your age. I get tired, unlike you."

Coen rises from his desk, scoffing at my words and tugging at the top of his turtleneck as he circles around his desk to meet me. He reaches up and pulls the beanie off of my head. I watch helplessly as he shoves it into his back pocket. 

"I'm twenty-five." He growls. "Not a kid. And what are you? Twenty-eight now? That's hardly a gap. Stop acting like it's such a difference."

"How do you know my age?" I snap defensively. "I'm twenty-seven. I'll be twenty-eight next month."

"I know everything recorded about your identity and your assumed identity." Coen retorts. "Or did you forget?"

"Oh." I say, running my fingers through my hair. "Right."

I move to the side as Coen breezes past me and through the door and, reluctantly, I drag behind him. The floor is now dark and quiet after having been abandoned well over an hour ago. Lamps at desks illuminate the space, but there is no one to use them. I can't help but find the lack of people unnerving. Coen leads me around and into the elevator, pushing the button to a floor up. I lean back against the elevator wall as annoyingly chipper music plays.