“Food,” she says, like it’s obvious.
“For?”
“For you.” I tilt my head slightly and I can feel the smile that’s forming on my face, because my girlfriend bringing food for me…miracle.
“You brought me food?”
She shrugs, like it’s nothing. “You usually bring your own,” she says. “You didn’t today.”
I didn’t. I knew I was going to have a busy day, besides Ma wasn’t well and I didn’t feel like cooking. “And you noticed,” I murmur.
She rolls her eyes. “I have eyes.”
“I’m glad you use them on me.”
Ajay coughs again and I grin. Ishika shoots me a look.
“Don’t” she mutters under her breath.
“Don’t what, Sunshine?” I feign an innocent smile as I raise an eyebrow loving the way she’s getting worked up.
“Be like this in front of people.”
“Like what?” I ask, fully aware I’m pushing it.
“Insufferable.” Ajay suddenly finds the file in his hand extremely interesting. I lean forward slightly, resting my elbows on the desk.
“You walked into my office,” I say, voice softer now. “Brought me food.”
She narrows her eyes. “That’s basic human decency.”
“Is it?” I tilt my head. “Because it feels a lot like care.”
Her cheeks flush. There it is. My favourite reaction. I love how she’s so calm and does actually enjoy the flirting or even snuggling when we are at her home but as soon as I meet her in office, there’s a one hundred eighty degree change to her personality and I get it that she’s trying to be professional but man the way she reacts to me is my favorite and I will do anything to see that glare while she turns red from anger, embarrassment and maybe my flirting does the effect too.
“I don’t have time for this,” she says quickly, stepping forward and placing the bag on my desk. “Eat before it gets cold.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She glares and my smile only grows wider. Ajay clears his throat again, clearly debating whether to disappear or stay professional. I decide to make his life a bit easier. “Ajay,” I say without breaking eye contact with her, “anything urgent?”
“No, sir.”
“Good.” He nods. And very wisely takes my hint and leaves.
The second the door shuts—She exhales and turns to me fully. “What is wrong with you?” she demands.
“Many things,” I say calmly. “Be specific.”
“That,” she gestures vaguely, “whatever that was.”
“I was flirting.”
“You were embarrassing me.”
“You were blushing.”
“That is not the point.”
“It is to me.” She presses her lips together, clearly trying not to react. Fails.
