This was inspired by a music video where there is lots of clips of Josh and Donna walking along corridors. Tell me what you think about it.
After her first day at work she had thrown her "luxury item" heels into an unknown corner of her motel room, pulled her tights off haphazardly, nearly tripping over the bed as she did and then thrown her feet into the bath of her en-suite. She had twisted the cold tap only, letting the ice-cold water sooth her aching feet.
After a week at work she'd decided on getting a little exercise. She'd never worked for someone who walked so fast in her entire life. Her break time was spent catching her breath from jogging behind her boss.
After moving from a small office in Manchester to a much larger, whiter building in DC she memorised the layout. Every trashcan, step and doorway was remembered after a few nasty bruises to her shins and a spilt cup of coffee over her favourite shirt when she'd foolishly stopped in front of a door.
After her first trip on Air Force One she'd began to anticipate his every move. After a few collisions when her boss had stopped mid step, pivoted in the plane's corridor and tried to walk back from where he had come from. She'd learnt quickly he liked to pace on planes.
After his first day back from a forced three month break she'd managed to slow her pace down to his "recovering gunshot wound" pace. She'd learnt he would try to push himself unless she was there to hold him back.
After his rendezvous with a certain sardonic brunette she'd learnt to knock before entering his office. Unless she wanted to get an eyeful of something she really wasn't ready to witness. She'd learnt to ring ahead before turning up at his apartment in the evenings in case she was there.
After she left his office and began working somewhere else it was almost like a cold air had replaced the warm body that once walked beside her. She walked down one side of the corridor as if someone was alongside her and she opened doors for invisible people. She knew his new assistant wouldn't be able to handle the pace.
After the election he had followed her around as she navigated the halls of the West Wing like she'd never left. Yes he was still her boss but no, she wasn't his assistant anymore. She'd found out she meant more to him than that. He wouldn't stop following her like a lost puppy with a smile on his face. She didn't mind. She'd only be following him home.