assistant ☼ everlark oneshot

assistant

hey guys! this oneshot is called assistant... its pretty lengthy, over 1,000 words :) enjoy! <3

katniss•

"Get me a coffee," I tell my writing assistant, Madge, across from my cluttered desk, "We have work to do."

"Right away, boss," she quickly nods and hurries to the lounge next door.

Exhaling loudly, I fumble with some more paperwork for another meeting. We have a new employee coming tomorrow, and I haven't even met him yet, which is not like my staff to hold off. He should have been introduced by the resource directors a long time ago. Madge is moving to Denver, so I needed a new assistant.

"Here you go, boss. Just how you like it. Caramel macchiato with extra caramel," she sets it on the coaster on top of my desk.

"Thanks," I mutter absentmindedly, signing more papers as fast as I can before the next meeting.

"I should probably go. My flight is in two hours," she picks up her purse.

"Thank you for everything. Really. You've been a great assistant, Madge," I rise from my desk chair and hug her with a small smile.

"Thanks so much, Katniss. I'll miss this place a lot. Bye," she waves and strolls out the door.

•••

After my day is over, I stressfully pack up some work to take home and lock my large penthouse office. One elevator ride later, I'm walking out to the busy city streets, my way home.

•••

"Hey, Buttercup," I ruffle my cat's ears. He meows and plops on the couch. Buttercup has never been an active cat – his day usually consists of eating and sleeping.

I set my purse on the floor and remove my heels, then I fill Buttercup's bowls with food and water and retreat to my bedroom. My apartment is pretty big for one person – too big, actually. Only Buttercup and I live here.

Changing out of my clothes, I slide on some silky pajamas and fuzzy slippers, then walk into the kitchen. I warm leftover pasta from last night's meal and eat it while watching Netflix, one of my favorite past times if I'm not working.

After a couple of episodes, I start working on some more things from the office.

God, this gives me such a headache.

When I look up to the clock, it's midnight, as usual. I set my papers on the nightstand and get ready for bed. After sliding the sheets down, I get in and go to sleep.

•••

The daily alarm rings in my ears. Seven-thirty. I begrudgingly get out of my comfy, warm bed, with Buttercup following me, and trudge into the kitchen. I start up my Keurig and pack up my work while waiting for my coffee. Soon, it's done, so I start sipping it and walk back upstairs to my room.

I lay out my outfit, a black and creme ensemble, and get into the shower. After getting ready for the important work day, the arrival of my new assistant, I spritz on some Marc Jacobs perfume.

Once I grab my purse, sunglasses, and papers, I start my walk down the dreary New York streets to work. It must have rained last night, as wet splotches cover the majority of the sidewalks.

•••

peeta•

Manhattan Writing has given me the position to be the writing assistant for their boss, the editor. I haven't met her yet, but the interviewers say she's very mean and strict. I just hope I can like this work environment as much as my last job.

Before I applied for this job, I worked for a health care facility, which was always kept clean and stress-free. It's also where I met one of my best friends, Finnick Odair, who was an employee as well.

This writing job has a nice paycheck. Plus, I feel I can do my part well here.

After reaching the building and walking inside, I notice the secretary's front desk. "Hi, I'm Peeta Mellark. I'm the editor's new assistant writer."

"She's up in the penthouse offices, Room One," the older lady smiles.

"Thank you," I reply and walk into the elevator.

The doors open and I am immediately stunned and overwhelmed by the view. You can see everything from here. The streets, the parks, the jazz band playing, everything.

I locate Room One easily, which is covered top to bottom with glass windows and doors, accented with dark oak wood slabs. A gorgeous, dark-haired woman with stormy grey eyes is sitting at a desk, drinking coffee and speedily typing something on a MacBook.

After adjusting my suit and my unruly blond hair one last time, I knock on the glass door, and I hear a muffled "come in" in response.

Taking a deep breath and preparing for the absolute worst, I slowly open the door. "Hello, I'm Peeta Mellark, your new assistant," I put on my winning smile, thanks to the braces I had when I was a kid.

"Oh, hi, nice to finally meet you! I'm Katniss Everdeen, the editor," She shakes my hand. "Please, have a seat."

I sink into one of the cozy leather chairs while she sits back down in her black chair, her silky ponytail swinging behind her.

"So, tell me about yourself," she suggests.

"Well, I'm originally from Albany, but I moved here to pursue my writing career. You guys have a fantastic reputation," I smile.

"Thank you." A light blush rises to her cheeks. She's adorable. "I know your basic information, but tell me about the special things in your life. Any relationships? Hobbies? Interests?"

"Well, I like to bake, as my father owns a bakery and I started working there at a young age, around 12 years old," I start off. This causes her eyes to widen.

"Wow, that's quite impressive, Mr. Mellark," she grins, nodding.

I keep going. "I also like to paint and write, of course. I was on the wrestling team back in high school, and I played basketball for my college."

She writes something down in a pretty cursive font and sips her coffee.

But hopefully this fact will make her happy. "And I'm single; no relationships at the moment."

Once again, that cute blush appears again on her toned and defined olive cheekbones. Katniss might be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

"Sounds good! You seem like you'll fit right in."

"Thank you very much, Miss Everdeen."

"Please, call me Katniss," she grins, and I find myself smiling and nodding. "Let's get to work, shall we?"