Mysteriously Enchanting

"Please stop fidgeting, it's distracting," Percival says.
"I'm sorry," you say and put your hands in your lap, trying hard not to start pulling at your nails again.

"Do I make you nervous or something?" Percival asks.
"No. Uhmmm..." you stutter. "Maybe a little."
Mr. Graves smirks. "You got nothing to be nervous about," he says. "Yet."

You swallow hard and start fidgeting again.

You've been Percival Graves' assistant for a couple of weeks now. He's been rather busy, which have kept you busy keeping track of his whereabouts and appointments. He's been out of the office most of the time, leaving you to do your job, just to brief him in the morning about the day's agenda and a quick wrap up at the end of the day, if he makes it back to MACUSA's headquarters before nightfall.

He's tall, dark and very handsome. The "dark" part is not just a word to describe his looks, he must be a little dark on the inside too, since he ever so often sends cold chills down your spine. Yet you can't help being attracted to him. Like every other woman, bad boys will forever be alluring to the innocent part of pure souls. It's not a weakness, it's science and you won't fight it.

Percival's stealing glimpses of you when you're not looking. When he was asking for and given an assistant at a very short moment of notice, he didn't expect one so distractingly fine looking as you. And the more you keep fidgeting nervously with your nails, pen or whatnot, the more he has to look at you and get drawn towards your enchanting femininity.

He runs a hand through his slick, black hair, tugging it some in frustration. He wants to yell at you for not keeping still, but since you're only awaiting orders from him, it's kinda his fault. But he wonders why you seem so nervous around him. He knows what he is, and what stirs within him. The question is; do you?

"Please, Miss Y/N," he starts saying.
"So sorry, Sir," you say and straighten your back at once. "It's a bad habbit of mine. My dad used to smack my hands when I was younger when I did this, when I was living back home. He tried to discipline me, but I guess it didn't work. Though being a rather shy girl that kept, and still keeps, fidgeting isn't a very cool way of acting out. I could have done something worse, I want to, uhmmm, wanted to do something worse, something more bad."

You regret what you just said, but it got Mr. Graves attention. He's staring right at you. "Something bad?" he asks. "Like what?"
"Uhmmm, I don't know. Like..." You uncross your legs and cross them again, completely aware of your body language. "Why don't you come over here and make me stop fidgeting?" you think to yourself and place a smirk on your face.

"I wish I could read your mind just about now," he says and narrows his eyes in the most sexy way. You bite your lip, sealing them shut, keeping your thoughs within.

Percival gets up and walks around the desk. He leans against it and crosses his arms, looking intensly at you. Your heart starts to race, and you snap for your breath, unsealing the vault of impure thoughts.

"I was just thinking," you say rather low. "That I might need some discipline still." You meet his stare. He pulls at the tie around his neck, like it's suffocating him, like he's getting somewhat hot and bothered. You flush and feel your body burn. What you just said, what you just uttered to your boss is highly inappropriate, and you need to get out of there.
"I'm sorry, Sir. I... I didn't mean to get out of line. I'm just gonna fetch my things and leave, I..." You get up and head for the door.

You're just about to open it, but two big hands on each side of your head keeps it shut.
"Don't go," Percival says. You can feel his hot breath on your neck, the warmth from his body mere inches away from your own. You sigh, wondering if you should turn to face him or keep standing with your back against him and plead him to let you go.
"Sir... If you would be so kind to... To let me leave. I didn't mean to... I know I said what I said, but I didn't mean to... You got this... Hold of me... I don't know what came over me."
He looks at your back. He wants to look at your face, yet he doesn't want you to see what you do to him. The sweet nectar of pure innocence is intoxicating, and he craves to mess it up, to mess you up. He wants to unravel the shy girl you told him you were, are. He wants you to fidget with the buttons on his coat, to undress him. He wants to punish you.