Glittering Days, Wistful Yearning, and Chocolate

an office romance

I'd kiss the bruise between your legs with fleeting lips. It's a sticky note left on his desk with reckless abandon and deliberate tenderness. Callahan stares hard at the note, face heating up, she had never been so overt before. In the 5 years they'd been coworkers there had been an immediate intrigue and care between the two, a playful ebb and flow. He was lovesick, wrapped in the idea of her nail lacquer and dancing eyes. His eyes peek over at her desk, the sound of her fingertips on her keyboard is crooning to his ears. Their office rendezvouses were on a deeper level than simple talk of sex, Callahan could never find the rhythm of sex, never quite understood the appeal of lasciviousness. But with Lilah, it was whispered desires, flights of fancy yearning, the occasional lipstick smears on his shirt collar, and that was enough for him.

In a public park, they might've crossed paths, but kept up the bit of being nothing more than coworkers, because they were nothing more than coworkers and that was enough and comfortable. Callahan reads the words on his computer screen aloud under his breath and Lilah traces each syllable with anticipation. She had finished her tasks at least an hour ago but she knew he was a slow typist, so all she could do was wait and watch, mindlessly flipping through the pages of a shiny magazine, mind elsewhere. She wanted his hands to imprint into her skin for once, she was tired of love notes left in emails, quick caresses while passing pens and parchment, longing stares from across the office. She wanted to feel his motivation, finally.

She heaves a sigh, getting up from her desk to head to the break room. Callahan notices out of the corner of his eyes, the lace of her black shift dress, shimmering legs in blue nylon stockings, she leaves in a stride of rum and black orchids, the last little hint of peru balsam making his nose twitch on the verge of a sneeze, as it often did, beautiful down to the last animalic note.

Lilah stares out at the clear day, watching as light snow falls from the sky, melts against the windows in a hush. She'd probably get more heat being under a quilt than she would waiting around for him to pick up the pace and take notice, take her. She brews herself a cup of Earl Grey, a kiss of brick red lipstick on her cup and vaguely hears the sound of slowly approaching footsteps, eyes stuck on a washed-out sky.

“You know, we have a full agenda today,” Callahan says, voice as uncertain as ever.

Lilah smirks from the lip of her teacup but doesn't dare turn around. “It's a glittery morning, you should indulge yourself.”

He smiles faintly, “Blue is my favorite color.”

“I rarely adorn stockings but I wanted your attention.”

“You always have my attention, Lilah.” It's said with the utmost sincerity, Callahan pressing his warm palm against her soft shoulder blade, and even through the fabric of her dress she shivers.

“Thank you, Callahan.” She murmurs, tea all but forgotten.

He sighs, moving away to walk over to the coffee machine. For a while, it's just the sounds of subtle dripping, clinking silverware against ceramic, and rustling papers.

“Why is it, the time I spend with you in this cramped office feels more real to me than walking the streets or going to the grocery store?” Lilah laughs a bit at her own shaky voice.

Callahan stares at her for a moment, cup of hot coffee in his hand. “I had a dream I was kissed by you, rather than giddiness or love, I only felt the sticky peck of your kiss.”

Lilah finally turns around to stare at him, smiling with a devilish glimmer in her eyes, head over heels. Callahan smiles back, extending out a hand for wanton fingertips to flit over his, intertwining fingers, feeling warmth, the softness of skin, palms pressed together.

“What I wouldn't give just to kiss you for hours on end.” Lilah says it with ease, nothing coy about her.

“Slow and hungry, fragile warmth, tangible static through lips, tongue, and teeth.” Callahan follows her etiquette, desires on a tear.

“To be able to call you mine, to hear you call me yours, rather than possession more like devotion in its simplest form.” It's an admittance of sorts for her. I want intimacy.

Callahan presses his thumb into her skin, close enough that she can smell the soap he washed with, no cologne to disguise who he was under the suit and tie. “I want you, in my head, in my heart, in my body, I can't stop thinking about it, so keep filling up my days with little snippets of you.”

Lilah stares, surprised by Callahan's rare act of sensuality. He pulls out a few pieces of red foil-wrapped dark chocolate from his suit jacket, hands a piece to Lilah, and keeps one for himself. A sweet treat to trust in the rest of their day together.

He smiles, voice barely a whisper as he looks away. “I swiped a couple from the reception desk while Carolyn wasn't looking.”

She scoffs, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “You're such a dork.”

The taste of that melting chocolate on their tongues throughout the workday is celestial, dizzy with desire.