januarie robinson
- november 16, 2020 -

THE SCREEN LIGHT BARELY LIT up the hallway I walked down. Running lights lined the base of the wall, but they were never much help. I placed a hand on the railing to guide myself towards the screen. Lights flashed and the noise almost deafening to my ears from the action sequence that took place.

            I listened for only a few seconds before putting my hands over my ears in order to block out some of the noise. No one was talking and the sound was fine, but after that it was just killer on the eardrums. Taking a few steps forward, I looked at the people. They all watched the screen, completely oblivious to my presence.

            Stepping back, I leaned against the railing. Once the action passed, I removed my hands from my ears. Someone grabbed my shoulder. Jumping, I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming.

            I dropped my hand to my heart, "You scared the crap out of me." I whispered, glaring at Lucas through the dark and smacking him in the shoulder. Every time I saw him, all that entered my head was the bar and that kiss. Then it took everything in me to just keep up a conversation.

            He tried not to smile, but he couldn't seem to stop it, "I'm sorry," he shook his head, "my intention wasn't to scare you."

            How could he possibly stand there and talk like that? As if everything was completely fine between the two of us. I had to bite my lip because all I could think about was kissing him.

"What was your intention?" I whispered back.

He looked at me. Really looked at me and his hands twitched by his side, "I just—I was looking to—" his eyes moved down, "I was, um, wanting to—"

I took a step forward, not even an arm's length away. To my surprise, he didn't move back. Instead, he moved towards me. Leaving little to no space between us.

            His breathing slowed, "Januarie, I uh—"

            Glancing over his shoulder, I checked the door, "Lucas, please, stop talking."

            His hands grabbed my hips and pulled me into him. I drew in a sharp breath and his lips found mine without a second thought. It was as if we'd been in this same situation a million times before. Something we did with ease, a repetitive motion that we no longer had to think about in order to complete.

            He moved back, pulling me across the hallway with him. We stumbled in the darkness together, trying our hardest not to make a sound which was far more difficult than I thought it would have been. I got lost in everything he did. In every single touch of his hands.

            He bent down and picked me up. My legs wrapped around his waist to keep myself from falling. He sat me on the hand railing and I had to swallow a laugh. I didn't even know I could fit on it. His hands tugged at my shirt slowly, as if teasing that he could pull it up at any moment if he so wished.

            My hands trailed from the back of his neck to his chest. I grabbed his tie and loosed it, almost untying it completely before starting on the buttons of his shirt exposing the t-shirt underneath. He grabbed my waist and pressed his body flushed against me, pinning me with his weight to the brick wall.

            The warmth of his body was comforting as much as it was intoxicating. Pulling at my tucked in shirt, the fabric slipped up with ease, sending a shock through my body and my hands moved to his hair.

            The palm of his hand ghosted across my bare abdomen before settling on my side and pulling me firmer to him, making my head spin and stealing the air straight from my lungs. His lips left mine only to trail down my jawline.

            I stuttered out a sigh and threaded my hands through his hair a few times trying to find purchase before pulling on it, I smirked as I felt his movements falter for only a second. His hands removed the bowtie around my neck and opened more than one button for his lips to reach my collar bone, his beard brushing against my skin.

            I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep quiet, but he still managed to get a hum to race through me. His hands landed on either side of my abdomen slowly slipping further up, taking the bottom of my shirt with him.

            Before my brain was too consumed in the swirling fog of dizzying feelings, I placed my hand on his chest, "Lucas," I whispered as quickly as I could, my voice almost entirely gone, "my shirt. You're pulling up my shirt."

            He stopped, but his hands still lingered on my skin. My chest heaved as I tried to get a hold of my rapid breathing. I watched the gears click in his mind. His eyes grew wide in the dark, but they still traveled back down to my lips.

Taking in my appearance, Lucas swore under his breath. He grabbed the collar of my shirt in an attempt to fix the damage he'd caused, "I'm sorry."

His voice came out low and breathy. It made me want to pull him back into me, but I simply smiled. Even if it was barely visible, "Be thankful I'm not wearing lipstick today. Then we'd be in a whole other world of trouble."

"You don't wear lipstick."

I bobbed my head, "Well, not usually, but it could happen."

Something flashed in his eyes, "God damn it." His voice stretched out low, almost like a groan. His head tipped back and he sighed.

            "We can't do this..." He still stood between my legs attempting not to fidget. His hands dropped from my stomach to my thighs and I had to close my eyes for a moment.

            Once I was back in control of myself, I reached out and placed my hand on his cheek. He closed his eyes and sunk into the touch, "We'll be okay. It'll be okay."

            His hand came up to mine and gave it a squeeze, "It doesn't matter." He grabbed me at the waist and lifted me from the railing. When my feet were back on solid ground, he took a step back, "You work here, Januarie. I'm your boss. I—I... This is so incredibly inappropriate. There are some lines you just don't cross."

            He pulled his tie the rest of the way out and we stepped closer to the light. He fixed the buttons I'd managed to free and flipped up his collar. He started retying the fabric around his neck, but his eyes kept darting from his tie back to me. He groaned after failing for the third time. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and tied it with ease before laying his collar back down.

            Lucas paused for a moment, then took a tentative step towards me. However, he stopped with more than an arm's length between us. As if he didn't trust himself to be any closer.

            "My intention—" He cleared his throat, professionalism clearly back in its place, "My intention was to tell you that if you wanted, you could go home early."

            The whiplash hit me harder than I expected. I couldn't just turn things off with a flip of a switch. Knitting my brows, I took a step back, "Yeah, sure. I'll take that offer. I'll just go." Turning on my heels, I couldn't quite convince myself to move.

            He stepped forward quickly and grabbed my hand when I finally decided to take a step towards the door, "Wait."

            My brows twitched and I turned to face him, "What?"

            "Your shirt," he whispered, looking down. My gaze followed his to my untucked, unbuttoned, disheveled mess of a shirt. He dropped my hand quickly as if he remembered what happened the last two times we've touched.

            Without answering, I set my lips in a hard line and nodded my head. He was about to step past me, but it was my turn to stop him with a gentle hand to his chest, "I know what I want, Lucas. I know what matters to me and I know how I feel." I finally looked up at him, "What is it that you want?"

            His eyes closed and his lips twitched up. Grabbing my hand, he brought it down to my side and dropped it. He didn't say a single word before he walked out the auditorium doors.

            I took a deep breath and leaned against the wall, letting my head fall against it. Melting down, I grabbed the railing to support myself. I ran my hands through my hair, pulling out my ponytail only to replace it with a much more polished version.

            Stepping back into the dark end of the hallway, I rebuttoned and tucked in my shirt before returning the bowtie to its rightful place. I stood there for a moment with my hands hiding my face. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to feel. Excited. Embarrassed. But I knew what I did feel was confused.

            I flattened down the front of my shirt and breathed out a slow sigh. Nothing was stopping me from leaving now. I ran my hands down my face and formed a fist. If I could punch the wall behind me without hurting myself, I probably would have.

            Painting a smile on my face, I exited the theatre avoiding all human life. The only person I would want to see was Cole and he was stuck in box office. I slipped through my co-workers and into the breakroom. When I opened my locker, I sighed and let my head drop.

            Items from my purse were thrown in every corner of the metal rectangle from when I was in a rush this morning. This is what happened when you didn't deal with your problems when they first occurred. You know, other than making out with your boss; twice.

            Grabbing my purse, I shoved things in whatever pocket was open. I slammed my locker and a thump hit the floor. I was about to turn and pick it up when a creak of the office door caught my attention. Looking, my eyes locked with Lucas. I latched onto the strap of my bag for dear life.

            Clearing my throat, I went to leave. The lobby was busy with workers who had much more important things to worry about than me. I made a beeline for the door, but was stopped as I passed Nick, "Have a goodnight, Januarie."

            Turning towards him, I smiled, yet when we locked eyes, it faltered without my permission. He watched me for a moment longer than necessary. He knew what hiding pain looked like. Walking around the podium, he dropped his voice, "You okay?"

            "Oh yeah." I waved him off the best I could, but my eyes still wandered to Lucas behind the counter. Nick followed my gaze. We glanced at each other before turning back to look at Lucas. He looked up and locked eyes with us. Having been caught, the three of us jumped. Nick gave Lucas a pointed look before he turned to me.

            His eyes softened, "What did he do?"

            "Nothing," I spoke a little too quickly for my own liking. "He did absolutely nothing. I'm just really tired and ready to get out of here." I glanced at Lucas once more, "Have a great night, Nick."

            I waved over my shoulder while rushing out the door. The last thing I wanted was for Nick to grill me with questions that I didn't know how to answer. He was basically a human lie detector after all.

WITH COFFEE IN HAND, I curled up on the edge of the couch and clicked on the television. I pulled a blanket over my lap as I flipped through the channels hoping to find something to keep my mind away from itself. I mindlessly clicked through shows until I passed The Office. I went back and dipped farther down in my seat.

            I was about to hear what happened between Michael Scott and Jan when a tentative knock echoed from the front door. Bruce barked from Nora's room, but remained laying on his dog bed. Sitting up, I looked over. I muted the television and called out to Nora, "Are you expecting company?"

            "No," she answered, peeking her head out of her room and giving me a quizzical look, "Are you?"

            "When do I ever have company," I answered. Staring at the door, I waited and hoped they might just go away, but another knock hit the door. Setting down my cup, I stood and walked to the door. My hands shook at my side. We never had company, especially not late at night.

            I grabbed the hoodie from the wall and pulled it over me. It fell past my knees. I hesitated before unlocking the door and hiding behind it. My brain stopped turning. I opened the door fully and leaned against the frame, "Lucas, what are you doing here?" I asked, wrapping my arms around myself to keep the breeze away.

            A shy smile played at his lips and he held up a thin, tri-fold wallet with shaky hands, "You left this."

            "I could have gotten it tomorrow. When I go into work," I said, biting back a frown, "You know, my job. Where you're my boss as you've made so abundantly clear."

            He looked down before coming back up to meet my eyes, his face morphing into a soft smile. I reached out for my wallet and he grabbed my hand. I could have easily pulled it away, but something in me let him take it. He stepped closer to me, exhaling a puff of air into the cold night.

            "I want this," he squeezed my hand, "I want to sit and watch television with you on a weekday night before we go to sleep. I want to hold your hand without thinking twice about it. Hell, I want to kiss you whenever I feel like it; wherever I feel like it. I want to hear you talk for the rest of my life. About your day, about the weather...Fuck, I'd listen to you read a shopping list because your voice is my favorite sound. I want all of you. That's what I want."

            I allowed myself to smile, but shook my head, "That's some of the cheesiest shit I've ever heard."

            His smile widened and he grabbed the front of my hoodie, pulling me in, "Januarie, please, stop talking."

            "Funny, I thought you like the sound of my voice." I teased and settled into him. One of his hands slipped into my hair and pulled me into a kiss. This one wasn't like the others. There was nothing frantic about it. He could take as much time as he wanted. Now that there was no one to catch us and there were no hidden feelings bubbling through. It was cinematic.