@pancakesareelite:
Is this where you admit you’re the creator of this server?
@theanswerisno:
Does it matter?
@pancakesareelite:
Not really. But as the creator, could I force you to play a game of DotA with me or should I assume *the answer is no*?
@theanswerisno:
I’ll never say no to that.
Mornings were my favorite time of the day. Running through the city when everyone else was asleep gave me a moment to clear my head. Perhaps it was the pull of my muscles or the way my heart pumped against my chest, but in those bursts of heavy breathing, my mind was clear.
I leaned against the office gate and swallowed a deep breath before scanning my fob and letting myself into the staff bathroom in the basement. After washing off this morning’s jog, I slipped into the fresh shirt I’d hung there and made my way up to my office. I had a few more minutes of silence before my office mate showed up.
The seventh intern always arrived with a bang. An actual bang sometimes. Yesterday, she’d knocked over an enormous vase of flowers, something that shouldn’t have been in her path in the first place.
“Good morning, Mr. Carden,” she said, a little more enthusiastically than usual. And she was usually very enthusiastic.
“Elizabeth.” I kept my head down. Even after almost two weeks of working in close proximity, I wasn’t quite able to face the combination of her charming smile and stormy gray eyes.
“Mr. Carden, I have two things to say-slash-ask, and then I’ll let you do your morning focus session and won’t bother you until you take your first coffee break, which is usually in around an hour and a half, right?”
I glanced over at the time. She was spot-on.
She continued. “Okay, so, first, thank you for the notes. I read them all and only cried a little bit.”
Cried?
My head snapped up, only to be met with her laughter. Her smile was as bright as I anticipated it would be. Today, her copper hair was pinned back on either side with blue butterfly clips, showing off her jewel-adorned ears. I never noticed her tragus and helix piercings before.
“Just kidding. I didn’t cry. Externally,” she said, and a second finger joined the first. “Second, when is my first evaluation or has it already happened?”
Straight to the point. I appreciated that.
“There’s a reason that information isn’t shared with you,” I replied.
“What are you going to say about me? Is it bad? Or is it best I don’t know?” She pressed her hands on my desk and tapped her fingers nervously.
I sighed, and using all my learned social behavior, I looked up and met her gaze.
Mistake.
Those eyes were as stormy as I remembered. She bit on her pink-painted bottom lip. “I’m the cat. I’m going to obsess about it all weekend.”
For some unknown reason, Elizabeth Gordon-Bettencourt’s presence deleted every thought in my brain. “What?” was all I managed.
“That curiosity killed. It’s me, the cat.” She drew a finger across her neck. “What animal best describes your curiosity style?”
Taken off guard by her ridiculous question, I answered, “In your analogy, probably an ostrich. Head in the sand and all that.”
She grinned. “Your brain is way too large.”
I shut my eyes, but a smile played on my mouth. The seventh intern was cheekier and far feistier than I expected her to be. “I don’t really know what to say to that.”
