And He Still Didn't Fire Me

Enrique

It has been two weeks since Lucas has been successfully avoiding me. I came, worked and left. Surely, it was quite a boring span of two weeks, without his pickup lines or innuendos. But I didn't ask him anything, and he didn't seem to have time to pay attention to me either. He was busy or 'kept himself busy' with never ending meetings, and presentations. Whenever I handed him his coffee in the morning, he muttered a barely audible 'thanks' and pushed a task list towards me.

Yes, I work now.

Most of my tasks are arranging his schedule, filing and stamping some papers and some stupid errands. He even asked me to go for office wear; hence I continued with my black jeans and dark shirts with blazers since its cold now. The only talk we had in the past two weeks was when he reminded me that I have three months left to suffer with him, which I must say he mentioned quite dryly, almost mocking me with the situation. And to say I was freaked out was an understatement of the century; I didn't know how to interact with him without seeming... desperate. I really wanted to throw a bucket of tar at his pretty face whenever his eyes escaped my scrutinizing gaze.

Or spray glitter over his manly ego.

"You can take an off early today, I got some work to handle at home so I'm leaving." He muttered as he shrugged on his jacket, and ran his hand through his hair. The hall was finally empty as the men dressed in expensive suits left, leaving me and Lucas alone. I wrapped all his papers and nodded.

"See you later." He said as he advanced towards the glass door.

"Lucas?" I called his name before I could even think, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

Of course, I didn't call him jerk or something like that, which I really missed.

Turning around on his heels, he looked at me with a raised eyebrow. We had a distance of almost four meters between us, but I still felt an awkward tingly feeling inside me which started creeping up to my spine. Is it because I got his attention after a long time? I sound like a thirsty bimbo now!

"Uh- nothing, I thought-no, Sorry." I quickly recovered, staring at the stack of papers in my hands which were rested on the mahogany table. What was I even thinking? I'm getting stupider day by day.

"Are you okay, Ms. Lockwood?" He asked, taking slow strides towards me. The sounds of his steps as they approached me were mocking me, as I stood there puzzled. Wiping my hands on my jeans, I turned around to see him leaning over me, with a concerned look plastered on his handsome face. That's when I noticed his gaze wasn't fixed on me, but the object behind me.

He picked up his phone as he leaned towards me, leaving a two inch space between us, and took a step back. He smirked at his phone, and turned around to walk in the direction of the door again.

"Take care of yourself, Ms. Lockwood." He called back and left the room, leaving me there as I stood, puzzled and shocked. I opened and closed my mouth like a fish, then pursed my lips into a thin line as I started analyzing what just happened.

Is he trying to provoke me?

Say that again Captain obvious.

He can't, he'll fail anyway.

Mind explaining your desperate look and heavy breathing? Oh and that 'awkward tingly feeling'?

I was tired from the long meeting between dead serious people who would look at me whenever I coughed or sneezed.

That is because you cough and sneeze like trying to bring a damn earthquake.

I agree with you on that, conscience.