Make Me (Editing)

sixteen

Riding up the elevator, I took a moment to decide on my strategy for the day. I could either face the fire and initiate a confrontation, or do the complete opposite and avoid my boss like the plague. Without much need for consideration, I went with the latter option, not really sure what I'd say to him anyway.

Unfortunately for me, it seemed he had other ideas.

After deliberately bypassing Mr Gray's office, I walked into mine to find the big man himself sitting in my chair, looking as painfully flawless as ever. He lifted his gaze to meet my own as he heard me enter the room. Although his eyes were just as vacant as usual, they were considerably softer than I'd seen them for a while. It was as though he almost.. regretted his behaviour?

Neither of us spoke. Neither of us moved. This was exactly the awkwardness I'd been desperate to avoid.

"Well," I decided to make the first move. It wasn't like I had anything to lose. "Did you have a good holiday?"

He remained silent, releasing a strained breath of air as he momentarily broke eye contact.

"I'm sorry," he finally replied, his voice barely loud enough to be heard.

"Oh, you're sorry?" I scoffed. "Well that makes everything better."

"I don't say sorry very often, Ally. You don't know how lucky you are."

He said my name so casually, as though it was the only thing he knew to call me. But I decided to ignore that for now, as there were definitely bigger issues at hand.

"I don't care how much of an occasion this is for you," I informed him. "It's not my fault that you refuse to take ownership of the majority of your actions."

"Well I don't know what else to tell you."

"Maybe," I spoke sarcastically, "you could start by explaining where the hell you were last week, and why you didn't care to tell anyone."

"I-," he began, before taking a moment to consider his reply. "I had some private affairs to attend to."

"What is that even supposed to mean?" I raised my voice in frustration. This conversation was going absolutely nowhere.

"You don't understand."

"No shit, Sherlock," I returned. "How am I supposed to understand when you're so freaking ambiguous about everything."

I had no idea why guys always used their inability to communicate as an excuse for themselves.

"Can we just move on?" He almost pleaded, causing me to laugh in disbelief.

"So that's what you want? To pretend none of this ever happened? Real mature, Mr Gray."

"If you have a better idea, Ally," he once again slipped in my name, "please feel free to jump in."

"Ok then," I took him up on his offer. "If you tell me exactly what you're sorry for, then I'll forgive you for it." I paused for a moment before adding, "and I'd like my seat back."

He nodded his head slowly, standing up from my chair before walking around to the smaller one in front of my desk. I took my rightful place in the bigger chair, resting my hands on the desk as I patiently awaited his reply. It honestly felt weird having the upper hand on Mr Gray, but I couldn't deny that I enjoyed the feeling. The man had a special talent for making people feel inferior, but at least for the moment it was the other way around.

"Well," he started, "I'm obviously sorry for not showing up to work for those few days."

"Four," I corrected him, earning the slightest hint of an eye-roll which I graciously let slide.