A/N - this is something I just threw together this morning because I was going mad with boredom and wanted to write something. I'm very out of practice at the moment having not written for a very long time so I apologise if you think it's a bit pants. I will probably add more to this very soon. Enjoy...
Cause Of Death
(c) CSI Dork 2007.
The longer he looked at her, the more he wondered what his cause of death was going to be. Every little action and movement she did made him feel like he was growing ever closer to his fate.
Intoxication?
Asphyxiation?
Mutilation?
Each option seemed more possible the longer he spent in her presence. She appeared oblivious to his fears as she continued on with her work; methodical, thorough, accurate. The occasional glance that she sent his way was the only acknowledgement that she was still aware of his existence in the room. Each of those glances seemed to subtly tease him, goad him as though she wanted him to say something. No sooner had the feeling in his chest tightened at the looks she gave him, than the glance softened and her eyes flickered back to what she was focussed on.
Maybe it was all in his head, some kind of psychological mockery at the weakness he felt in her presence - reminding him that he wasn't physically and mentally strong like other guys. He couldn't bench press two hundred pounds without breaking a sweat. He couldn't turn on the charm without sounding like a perverted college student. He couldn't zoom in like a masked superhero and sweep her off her feet.
So here he was, still wondering what his cause of death was going to be. Every moment that she wasn't his, every kiss he couldn't steal, every look she gave him that reminded him of the fact she didn't love him, just made him feel more and more like she was slowly yet effortlessly incapacitating him like a bug on the windshield.
Intoxicating him with her presence.
Asphyxiating him with her stare.
Mutilating his heart every time she did something to remind him he wasn't with her.
As he swallowed down the feelings and began to focus on his own work with great effort, he began to consider that maybe it was time for things to change. Maybe it was time he started doing some bench presses at the gym. Maybe it was time he worked on his charm. Maybe it was time he started wearing his underwear on the outside of his trousers. Scratch that last thought. He wanted her to notice him but perhaps that wasn't the way to go. Either way he knew he had to do something or this wasn't just going to go away.
Greg Sanders stole a glance in the direction of the woman who was torturing him on a daily basis as she stored something away in her kit, stopping for a moment to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. It all seemed to go in slow motion as his mouth went dry and his heart began to thump abnormally against his chest.
It wasn't going to be easy. It wasn't everyday that you turn around and tell a co-worker that you're so unbelievably drawn to her, that you feel like you would just die without her by your side.
A/N - thankyou for reading thus far. I deliberately haven't said who the woman is mainly because I have a couple of options and haven't yet decided. Hope you liked it, it's very short I know.
