C ~ Mr. Co-worker

post-it

Dear Mr. Co-worker,

You got upset because somebody threw a Post-it at you to get your attention. Who does that?! The anger flaming from your eyes, while trying to stay composed was completely over the top for what happened. Yet the passion that accompanied it immediately got my attention and strangely enough turned me on. It was my first day at a new job. You know I have since accepted your apology for your behavior.

In the days that followed I couldn’t make out whether you were being friendly or whether you were flirting with me. Did you even know yourself? I guess it became pretty clear to both of us in that meeting I had with you, when the conversation turned into a flirtatious game of Ping-Pong. But how the hell did you trick me into agreeing to getting naked with a bottle of wine? And why did I suggest doing it that night? We did meet at a bar for a glass of wine that night, which turned into a bottle. But the politeness of the conversation confused me. When the bar closed and we continued at your place, I was still baffled by the fact you hadn’t made a move yet. You had to wait until I had put on my coat ready to leave before finally wrapping your arms around me, lifting me so I could straddle you. I loved how after that initial night you often carried me to your bed like this.

The following weeks I thoroughly enjoyed the secretiveness of our flirtation. Leaving the office separately only to meet at your place and tumble into your bed. The hung-over mornings when I couldn’t focus. The conversations over Office Communicator while practically sitting next to each other, in which I kept you guessing whether I was wearing underwear or not, so you couldn’t concentrate. We successfully hid our chemistry from our other co-workers. But I think you were even more shocked than I was when our boss had detected the fiery energy between us. I can remember the schoolgirl guilt I felt when he kindly and discretely requested us to focus more on the job and less on each other. I think he was a little relieved that you, as an international intern, were leaving soon.

Relief was not a feeling I experienced when you left. I’m still a little disappointed you did not give this flirtation the chance to grow into more, even though we both verbalized how we felt we could fall in love with each other. I was definitely more productive when you left though, despite a bruised heart. The sight of the security cameras we dodged when making out, the bar where we were regulars and the yellow post-its on my desk often made for a smile. Thanks to you, I felt at ease in this new environment. Thanks to you I’ll always think back at that awkward stage of starting a new job with a smile.

Bisoux,

Ms. Alphabet
(who may or may not have been wearing underwear at the time of writing…)

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