Oil and Water
Chapter 1: Klavier I
She is lovely. Why I find her so is quite a surprise to me. I've traveled far and met countless women who are far more exotic, far more sensual, far more revealing and available to men like me. Unlike these exquisite women, who tease with a slight movement of the hand, a flip of the hair, a secretive smile, and a sway of the hip, she is without artifice. Not one to use feminine wiles, she paints you an interesting image – a pout of the lips and deep furrow of the brows meant to repel, not invite.
To men who primarily concern themselves with appearances, they may find her features a tad too plain or ordinary. I pity whoever has failed to spare her a second look, because if they had the good sense to do so, he would see what I see every single day. Working with her affords me the privilege of looking into a pair of green eyes that go rich and vivid when I rankle her, of stealing glances at her enticing lips when she talks or munches on her favorite snacks...God, that drives me crazy the most. "Professionalism" is the only thing preventing me from acting out my fantasy of either brushing away the crumbs from her lips and kissing her or going all the way, crumbs and everything, just to find out what Ema Skye-flavored snackoo tastes like. When I sneak up behind her, it takes every single ounce of my resolve not to touch her hair, just to find out what it feels like to run my fingers through it. When she comes and goes to my office, she prolongs her presence with her sweet but subtle fragrance, and distracts me from the work before me more than I'd like. And while I haven't seen enough (anything to be precise), her figure gets me...excited. It is an unreasonable, unfounded, baseless excitement. She is hardly without that figureless, sterile lab coat after all. I'd teased her once about her lack of curves and playfully advised her to get rid of that infernal coat and show a little skin, partly because I wanted to put a stop to my growing obsession about the body underneath those clothes and to find out whether or not my imagination jived with reality. Of course, when I said that, I almost got hit on the head with a can of spray that belonged to her stash of fancy-yourself-a-forensic-scientist paraphernalia. But I can't help myself. She pushes me away repeatedly, sometimes almost cruelly, but I keep coming back to her more persistent and resolute and interested as ever.
Who would've guessed that Klavier Gavin, rockstar and genius prosecutor, could be charmed so thoroughly by someone who wasn't even intending or trying at all? No one. Not even me.
Dear Reader,
It's been a long time since I've written something, so thanks so much for spending some of your time on this little story. It's an idea that's been in my head for quite some time, and I figured now would be a good time to give it a go. If you have any comments, please feel free to write a review (as long as it's nice and/or constructive, not plain spiteful or nasty, okay?). I hope you enjoyed this one enough to stick around for the next part :)