My Boss's Proposal

Chapter 5: You are not stupid

Claire's Pov

I stare out the window as the airplane soars through the sky, the clouds seem to be set right next to us. The nice atmosphere is wrecked as Harry constantly shuffles next to me, and I swear I'm going to wring his neck if he doesn't stop.

"Will you stay still!" I whisper-yell, sure not to disturb anyone around us.

"Excuse me mum, didn't know you were so touchy."

"Working for you for three years does that to a person," I spit back at him, glancing at the file in his lap. He notices me looking and hands it to me.

"It's the questions we're supposed to know," he says, before placing them back in his lap. "I know absolutely nothing about you, surprisingly. And you-"

"And I know everything about you," I finish. He nods and flips through some of the pages in the packet. His hair is pushed back like normal, but he's dressed a bit more casual. HIs torso adorned in a red and black flannel, and legs covered with black jeans. His usual dark leather boots set on his feet, and he looks like a normal 28 year-old. He chuckles at a few of the questions, rubbing his lip with his fore-finger and thumb.

"You know everything about me?" he asks. I groan and nod my head, it's actually sad that I do. "What's my favorite type of fruit?"

"Banana's," I reply, causing him to jot out his bottom lip and nods his head to express how impressed he is.

"What's my favorite book?"

"Wuthering Heights."

"How do you know that one?" he asks.

"Every year at the Christmas party you're always sat in the darkest part of your office reading that book, while everyone else gets drunk," I mumble with a small laugh.

"You're always the one to call cabs for them though," he says, glancing at me.

"Well, they're my friends," I reply. He furrows his brows, as if the word is somewhat foreign to him, before reffering back to the packet.

"Do I have any scars?"

"I think you have a tattoo," I say, causing his eyebrows to shoot up.

"You think?" he replies, a small smile spread across his pink lips.

"I do. A dermatologist called about a year ago, asking if you about the lazer surgery that you canceled," I look at him out of the corner of my eye, his figure a bit slumped over in his seat. Ever since then I let my mind wander a bit to the possibilites, laughing at the thought of something like a butterfly or a flower permanantly etched on to the skin. "It'd probably be best if you told me what it is now, just so I'll be able to answer it."

He opens his mouth to say something, but is stopped by a banging at the back of his seat. He rubs his forehead with his fingers, groaning. I turn to see a child at about the age of 8 kicking at the back of his seat. I laugh before turning to face him in his distressed state.

"Honey, we aren't having kids," he mumbles as the airplane hits slight turbulance.

***

The flight was long and tiring, but it had it's moments. I nearly chocked on my drink laughing whenever Harry swore he was going to turn around and yell at the child which he never did. I didn't sleep, unlike Harry who was snoring like a hog during the duration of the ride. I just couldn't get rid of the thoughts swirling in my head, consuming me. My head is a vortex and my thoughts are literally everything. The plane lands in Michigan at around 7:30, and I have to literally shove Harry to wake him up. It amazes me how he manages to annoy me more and more everyday.