So this is a desperate post detailing the trials and tribulations of a susceptible heart-beat when it moves into the same vicinity as a man who makes it go into overdrive...
What do you do when the toughest man in the office, the hottest man in office and the man with the most gut-melting wit are one and the same?
And what, asks a wildly beating heart, do you do when he's standing right there, being amusingly snarky at someone who isn't you and you're thinking... "I wouldn't mind being chewed up if I had that as an excuse to look at him..."
How low can you fall, when you know that he's not just a taboo subject, he's taken (yeah, heart cracks each time you say this)...
But the positive thing is that since you've already fallen and you're already displaying a complete lack of shame, you can allow yourself to wildly fantasize and dream, because (and this is important) since you already know you can't have him, you're basically watching a movie (rating for which is debatable).
What does the movie do? It allows you to imagine a rainy, stormy day when you're removed from the direct sphere of his ire, when he's banished the rest of his minions out, and you're packing up, mouse-like and scared, your heart beating at a million impossible beats an hour because he's mad, but he's around.
You're clearing your workstation, zipping up bags and putting away wires, checking phones and keys. And you're doing your damnedest to ignore him. Because that's healthy.
Until you turn away from your station to face him leaning against his door, arms folded over his crisp, white shirt, watching you. You can feel the blush, it's not even creeping, it's running a shameless marathon up your neck and face. You're stuck like a rodent in sudden floodlights, and manage to stammer "Erm... Goodnight..."
He holds his gaze, slowly walks towards you as you freeze, unable to move because your blood is racing so fast that it's doing nothing in terms of supporting your thoughts, mind and movements. He's so close now, you can smell the nicotine on his clothes. And it gets stronger as he unfolds his arms and pushes that strand of hair away from your face that has been flying around all day. His touch is cool and collected, just like he is. His eyes, his gorgeous hazel eyes are looking at you, enjoying the view of your increasingly flustered reactions, and you make the mistake of looking at him. And you're caught.
As he takes a step forward, his eyes now shining, closer to you, as you suddenly remember that you probably smell of chai... Too late now, however, as he leans in, his hand in your hair now becoming stronger, pulling you towards him, kissing you lightly. You needn't have worried about exhaling chai into his breath, however, because you gasp at contact, and he pulls away.
You're leaning back against your desk, and he teases you backwards, till it's a piece of cake for him to position himself in a stronger position above you.
And the rest is imagination... Your rating, your choice... Because he's giving a lecture about his work right now, and it's fascinating, as you snap back to reality. His passionate voice makes shivers run up and down your spine and arms.
And you sigh and stare at your screen. Despite the fact that you want to stare at him joyfully gesticulating...
What do you do when the toughest man in the office, the hottest man in office and the man with the most gut-melting wit are one and the same?
And what, asks a wildly beating heart, do you do when he's standing right there, being amusingly snarky at someone who isn't you and you're thinking... "I wouldn't mind being chewed up if I had that as an excuse to look at him..."
How low can you fall, when you know that he's not just a taboo subject, he's taken (yeah, heart cracks each time you say this)...
But the positive thing is that since you've already fallen and you're already displaying a complete lack of shame, you can allow yourself to wildly fantasize and dream, because (and this is important) since you already know you can't have him, you're basically watching a movie (rating for which is debatable).
What does the movie do? It allows you to imagine a rainy, stormy day when you're removed from the direct sphere of his ire, when he's banished the rest of his minions out, and you're packing up, mouse-like and scared, your heart beating at a million impossible beats an hour because he's mad, but he's around.
You're clearing your workstation, zipping up bags and putting away wires, checking phones and keys. And you're doing your damnedest to ignore him. Because that's healthy.
Until you turn away from your station to face him leaning against his door, arms folded over his crisp, white shirt, watching you. You can feel the blush, it's not even creeping, it's running a shameless marathon up your neck and face. You're stuck like a rodent in sudden floodlights, and manage to stammer "Erm... Goodnight..."
He holds his gaze, slowly walks towards you as you freeze, unable to move because your blood is racing so fast that it's doing nothing in terms of supporting your thoughts, mind and movements. He's so close now, you can smell the nicotine on his clothes. And it gets stronger as he unfolds his arms and pushes that strand of hair away from your face that has been flying around all day. His touch is cool and collected, just like he is. His eyes, his gorgeous hazel eyes are looking at you, enjoying the view of your increasingly flustered reactions, and you make the mistake of looking at him. And you're caught.
As he takes a step forward, his eyes now shining, closer to you, as you suddenly remember that you probably smell of chai... Too late now, however, as he leans in, his hand in your hair now becoming stronger, pulling you towards him, kissing you lightly. You needn't have worried about exhaling chai into his breath, however, because you gasp at contact, and he pulls away.
You're leaning back against your desk, and he teases you backwards, till it's a piece of cake for him to position himself in a stronger position above you.
And the rest is imagination... Your rating, your choice... Because he's giving a lecture about his work right now, and it's fascinating, as you snap back to reality. His passionate voice makes shivers run up and down your spine and arms.
And you sigh and stare at your screen. Despite the fact that you want to stare at him joyfully gesticulating...
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