The Art In Us

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24. The Art of being with You




Late. I basically run through the hallway 
and shove my body into my office door. I throw my bag onto the couch, squint through the dim light, and groan into the air as I notice the pile of work on my desk. 
I press a button on the wall that opens my blinds. I shuffle through my papers and try to breathe through the stuffy air. 
Angered, I reach for the A.C remote but somebody's hands beat me to it. 
Long fingers press the button. I notice a familiar Cartier watch. The A.C makes a buzzing noise and it begins to work. I smell wood, cologne, and my heart begins to pound furiously in my chest. These long fingers place the A.C remote back on my desk. 
I sigh. I'm still angry. 
I turn around. Neill shoves his hands into his pants pockets. Navy blue. 
"I have hands," I say. 
"Nice to see you, too." 
I smile sweetly, "Do you need me to write you a report?"  
I'm not smiling inside. 
"This morning-" Neill takes a step towards me- "I was planning to explain my absence over breakfast with a very stubborn woman." 
I feign surprise. "Let me guess, you were in a car accident?" 
Neill smirks.  
I run my eyes over his muscled arms, his chest which is revealing traces of his abs. He looks amazing in a jersey. Light grey. Polo. Addidas sneakers. Grey. He looks like he walked straight out of a magazine photoshoot. 
"She would know if she had gotten into the car," he runs his eyes over my body. I let him. 
"Or maybe," I widen my eyes mockingly, "an alien ate your phone." 
Neill tilts his head to the side and takes another step towards me. 
"Let me explain." 
"Did you die and come back to life?" 
Neill narrows his eyes at me. The sight is beautiful. 
I nod. "Or maybe you fell off a plane?" 
Neill helps me out this time.  
His hands grab my skirt hoops. I gasp. He pulls me flush against him. I smile. He crashes his hot lips onto mine. I die a thousand- no- a million times. 
His tongue roams over my mouth. I melt in his grasp. He intoxicates me. Our mouths dance over each other as our innocent kiss turns passionate. I kiss him hard with all the anger and frustration I've been feeling and he lets my tongue ride his mouth this time. I enjoy the control. I enjoy the way he fails to breathe. I enjoy the way he has to grip my hair to calm me down. I love how he groans deep in his throat when I don't. 
"Reane-" he groans. 
Hot mouth on my neck. Teeth nipping. I gasp. Hot mouth runs itself over my earlobe. Teeth lightly nip. I moan.  
"Don't ever advise my driver to insult me again," he trails open mouthed kisses over my neck, towards my panting mouth. 
"Did he do it?" 
Neill pulls away. He places his nose inches away from mine. With a death grip on my hair, he stops me from moving any closer. 
"You wish." 
I do. 
"So?" I stare shamelessly at his glistened lips. He pecks me softly on my open mouth. 
"I went to Italy." 
My eyes move up to his. His greens bare into me and I remember how all I could think of this week was him. 
He frowns. 
For some reason, I'm unsettled. I have a strong feeling that's not all he left for. 
It's hard but I move away from Neill. It's harder, but he lets me go and stays away. 
I run a hand over my cold arms and avoid his gaze. 
"Reane," he lets out a bitter laugh, "you can't be angry." 
I don't reply. 
He leans forward on my desk.  Two hands are placed flat on my table on either side of me. He is so close but I force myself to be mentally far away. 
"Look at me." 
I do. 
"What's wrong?" 
You left. You didn't call. You didn't tell me. You didn't care. 
"I got the job," I say quickly, "with Brian." 
He frowns. "He never told me." 
I nod. "Today's my last day." 
Neill sighs, "This is what's suddenly bothering you?" 
Also, I don't trust you. 
"Yeah," I nod. "I'm just...occupied." 
"Isn't this what you wanted?" 
A careless boyfriend? Not boyfriend. A guy that you're hotly attracted to who chooses when to care? 
"Yeah," I nod. 
I look away from him. I sit in my chair, battered. I feel the destruction I warned myself about.  
My heart is a raging storm and Neill caused the rain. 
Neill stands straight. He runs a hand through his hair. It bounces into his face and he pushes it away. I ache to touch him that way. I realize he might not let me. 
"I came here to ask you out, technically," he says shyly. 
I frown at the unsettling sight of Neill being shy no matter how fast it makes my heart beat.  
"A date?" 
Neill cringes.  
"Not a date," I add. "Technically a date." 
"A proposal," he sighs. 
"Am I a boat owner?" I glare. "A pool owner?" 
Neill rolls his eyes. 
I can't help it when I smile. 
"You're just furious today aren't you?" 
My pupils basically dilate when I remember how furiously I kissed him.  
I fold my arms over my chest. 
"You make me fucking furious." 
"Art gallery?" 
He shakes his head. "Gala." 
I frown, "For?" 
"Not sure," he sighs "cancer?" 
I shrug. 
"It's to show you around plus I have no one to take." 
I narrow my eyes at him. 
"I'm joking." 
I grit my teeth. "You're very funny." 
His phone vibrates. Neill takes it out of his pocket. He doesn't even look at it. He's too busy noticing the sad facial expression on my face. I try a smile and shrug. I'm glad when he locks his phone. 
"Reane, I have to go." 
I'm not so glad anymore. 
"Me too," I say. 
Neill pulls out a tiny box from his pocket. It's wrapped up in a bow like a gift. Blue box. Black ribbon.  
"Think about it," he places his gift on the table, "think about us." 
I want to ask him why I should when there might not even be an us.  But he’s out the door before the words can escape my mouth.  

Benn. C

Edited: 20.05.2019

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