AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I quite like my eyeballs.
* * *
The clockon the wall reads nearly 4:30 a.m. Despite having slept in this morning, my body is worn out. Disappointment runs through me, and I keep glancing out the windows.
The dock is still empty.
I finished all my paperwork hours ago, and now it’s just me and my thoughts—a dangerous combination on a good day.
An artificial water droplet sounds, and I pick up my phone.
Adam: You miss all the fun, prick.
Four picture messages follow of the group doing more shots and screaming the lyrics of whatever bullshit song is playing. Suddenly a video message from Marie comes through of her grinding against her human.
I roll my eyes and put my phone away.
Then, I hear it.
The door clicks, and my head shoots up. I swivel the chair around. Exhaustion is forgotten, and my jaw drops open.
The Winter Fae stands in the doorway, wearing the same clothes as before. I thought I’d remembered her perfectly, but seeing her now...
She defies memory. Her hair isn’t simply black; it is ebony, with veins of dark red. Her eyes are as pure blue as paraiba tourmaline. The tattoos are still stark against her dark skin and almost shimmer in the firelight. Full lips quirk up to the side.
I have been around for a while. I know what I am saying when I say that no woman, dead or alive, will ever be as beautiful as her.
Then, like the stupid Fae I am, I open my mouth.
“Hi,” I say dumbly.
Hi!?Suddenly, eloquence has no place in my mind. I am reduced to nothing in her presence.
“Hello again.” A tight smile spreads across her face. “I thought I would take care of the paperwork this time.” She grabs one of the metal folding chairs from the corner, dragging it to the front of the desk. She plunks down, crossing her toned legs. I hadn’t had the chance to admire them properly during our last encounter.
I’m happy to note that they are perfect, like the rest of her.
“Where do I start?” Her voice is strong but quiet in the small place. It’s the kind of voice a millionaire uses when he speaks about humility.
I slide the papers across the desk. The palpitations in my chest are going to kill me. Pointing to the first one with a pen, I whisper, “Right here.”
Is it getting too hot in here?
“Thank you,” she says softly. Her voice is like music to my ears. She looks at the papers before her and doesn’t say another word as she fills out sheet after sheet. There is no flirty eye flicking towards me, no attempt at conversation, just unparalleled focus on her task.
This is the first time I have seen such meticulous attention to detail. I can’t help but marvel at her mannerisms. Watching someone fill out paperwork has never been so captivating. This is the highlight of my day. My week.
A few minutes in, she tugs at each finger and pulls off her leather gloves. Her hands are covered in the same white ink.
“Gods, it’s hot in here.”
I blink. It isn’t just me.
A mumbled agreement makes it out of my mouth. I can’t manage anything else because my attention is fixed on those amazing hands. This nameless female keeps her fingernails short and neat, but her fingers still have an elegant, lyrical quality.
I could spend an eternity watching her hands. They dance across page after page, and I am completely and utterly enthralled.
Filling out paperwork is such a mundane task. I don’t know how she puts up with it. She’s a Fae–shouldn’t she be doing something better with her time? I don’t know many Winter Fae, but I would assume that they had better things to do than this.
