Alexandra Cabot. That's her full name but she asked me to call her Alex, so I do. Her nickname makes her seem more approachable, almost more…friendly. I'm not saying that she's not friendly—well I guess I don't really know because I've never interacted with her much outside of work but she's a mystery to me, a mystery that I would like to solve.
I have been watching her for weeks, trying to figure out something a little more personal about her but everything that I've observed has just led to a dozen more questions. For example, a couple of days ago she answered her phone while I was in her office and immediately lowered her voice and softened up her tone. Hell, I could've sworn that I heard her say 'sweetie' but then again she tried her best to turn away from me while she talked.
Like I said, a mystery. Maybe it was her lover or maybe it was just a family member, like I said, a dozen more questions. Yesterday I walked in on her munching on something that looked like chocolate—a food item that I never thought she would eat considering she always seemed to have a salad on hand. But what do I know? Nothing past those icy blue eyes and smooth blonde locks.
Sometimes she looks honest to god happy but those moments are rare. Most times she looks angry but I'm sure that's just a front, a front hiding something deep down inside of her that she doesn't want anyone to see.
Something that I can't help but want to see.
So I'll continue watching her from afar, admiring, hoping, wishing that maybe one day she'll give me a chance to break down her walls.
I watch her as she walks into the precinct, confidently, never once swaying in those high but work-appropriate heels. I have no clue how she manages to walk in those heels while wearing such a tight pencil skirt but somehow she seems to do it and she always makes it seem so easy. I'll admit, I tried putting on a skirt and heels a couple of days after I first met her and that's why I had a bruise on my forehead for the next few days… Let's just say that I didn't wear heels any time soon after that.
She walks right past me, her lips creased ever so slightly, keeping her from looking upset. I've noticed that about her. It's rare that she'll smile; maybe she'll smile when she's trying to be polite but she never genuinely smiles. Or least I have yet to see it. It's almost as if she forces herself to curve her lips ever so slightly so that she doesn't look eternally pissed off—which she may very well be considering all the crap she has to put up with on a daily basis.
I glance behind me for a second, just long enough to take a mental picture of her toned calves and shapely rear in her tight little skirt. I don't consider myself an 'animal' but I know when a woman is gorgeous and she's the definition of it. You can look but can't touch, right? When I look back at my desk, I allow my eyes to slip shut for just a few seconds, allowing her image to burn into my mind before I return to my work—she has already distracted me enough as is.
Today. I told myself that today would be the day that I ask her out. But then again, I told myself that yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that…and the list goes on. Every single time she looks at me, her face softens up just a little bit and I forget every single damn thought I once had. So can you really blame me for not asking her out already?
Before I have time to rationalize why I shouldn't ask her out today, she's leaning up against my desk, her ankles crossed as both of her hands settle around the ledge of my desk, perfectly manicured nails tapping against the wood. "Morning Counselor," I manage to say as I look up at her, hoping to hell that she doesn't have that look that makes me lose all rational thought.
Of course when I look up, it's there along with a slightly bemused expression. And then for a split second, I see a flash of pearly white teeth before she holds back her smile. "Evening," She says in response, a single eyebrow raising up before dropping back down.
I stare at her for a few seconds before her word dawns on me. I glance down at my watch, finally realizing that it's almost six at night rather than ten in the morning like I thought it was. "Oh, wow the day sure did fly by," I say, mentally cursing myself for sounding so stupid. No, the day certainly didn't fly by. The day dragged on and on as I tried to force myself to focus instead of thinking of her.
"Well that's good to hear. I wish my days were like that," She casually replies, her eyes roaming over the surface of my desk, probably trying to figure out what exactly I was working on.
"A lot on your mind?" I ask, filling in the gaps of my thoughts. I groan once I realize that my question doesn't make sense in context to our conversation, hoping that she won't notice but it's obvious that she does when she raises her eyebrow once more, her lips curling up just a bit.
"It sure does seem like you've had a long day, Detective," She comments as she tilts her head to the side in such an adorable way that I can't help but smile. I wonder if she knows how cute she looks right now. Her long blonde hair is hanging over her shoulder, her blue eyes glistening from behind those black frame glasses, a single blonde eyebrow raised over the frame. "Olivia?"
I blink a couple of times, widening my eyes in an attempt to force myself to refocus before I look at her again. "Sorry, yeah you know I probably thought it was tomorrow morning rather than this morning. I guess this day has been dragging on more than I realized," I tell her, not quite convincing myself but maybe it would convince her.
"If only it were tomorrow morning," She says softly as she looks up and sighs before continuing, "We'd both be in bed, enjoying a relaxing day."
My eyes narrow in confusion as my heart pounds against my chest. My mind is swarmed with images of Alex in my bed, with clothes, without clothes, sweaty, sleeping, hell I don't care as long as I'm there with her. I can feel my pulse quicken as every thought flies through my mind and my face heats up. "What?" I managed to croak out, trying to figure out why exactly she thought we'd be in bed together tomorrow morning.
"You don't have work, do you?" She questions in confusion. "It is Saturday after all. I like to stay in bed at least until nine but that never really seems to happen with New York traffic waking me up, even on Sundays."
Well that makes a lot more sense. She's imagining us both in our respective beds and not together… "Oh," I manage to say as I drop my gaze to my desk, hoping that she can't read my mind. I can feel my cheeks still burning from embarrassment, more so now than before.
"Do you?" She asks and again I'm lost.
"What?"
"Do you have work tomorrow?" She clarifies, that perplexed look still on her face as she eyes me up curiously, trying to get read on me.
"No," I reply as I shake my head, both in response to her question and in an attempt to clear my fluster and hide all traces of embarrassment from my face.
"Well that's good," She replies as she offers up one of those fake smiles. "Do you have any plans?"
"Plans, uh no. Just sleeping with you," I respond, a blush immediately creeping onto my cheeks before my words echo in my ears. "Like you! Just sleeping like you," I mutter as I shake my head, trying to hide my red cheeks. "Sorry, I'm really tired and I have no clue what I'm even saying."
When I look up, she's smiling at me, a small hint of white between her lips as she tries to hold back her grin. I never understood why she always insisted on keeping her lips together when she smiled. I could only imagine how beautiful she'd look if she smiled sincerely. "Well then I'll let you go home," She states as she pushes herself off of my desk and brushes out the invisible wrinkles on her skirt. "I'll see you tomorrow."
She's about halfway down the hall before I realize what she just said. "We don't have work tomorrow," I call out, smirking at her backside until she turns around to look at me.
"Oops," She replies, her lips curling up on the sides before she turns away and leaves the precinct, not another word coming from her. I continue staring at the wall that she disappeared behind, wondering if she accidentally said that or not. She certainly is a mystery.