This chapter is going to be a lot more focused on Will than him and Ronald, so please be patient! It's priming for more of the story.

I could admire Knox's determination at his job, despite his misguided reasons. As long as he did his work, however, I had decided it should not matter to me that he only finished early to avoid overtime and to attend his parties. I was indifferent toward him. Understandably, I hope.

I say almost with shame now that I had very misplaced affection toward another one of my coworkers. A coworker whom I had spent much time trying to, as one would say, court. I am not charming like Ronald. The best way to describe him would be to call him magnetic; the best way to describe me would be repellant. My reputation preceded me to even Knox's peers, it should be no surprise that my own workers knew all too well my lack of charm. Still, I tried for that man, in my own way I suppose.

"William? What're you still doing here?" The object of my affection had asked one night when he had found me still in my office, correcting another one of Sutcliffe's reports. I had nearly jolted out of my seat in surprise at his voice. I briefly glanced at him before
averting my gaze.
"Humphries, you don't have overtime today, why are you here?" I hadn't realized how cold this must've sounded until it left my lips, and I bit my tongue in frustration.
"I'm only here to retrieve my forgotten coat. And you haven't answered." To my desperate ears, Alan almost sounded concerned.
"I have nothing to do before I sleep tonight, and furthermore Sutcliffe's reports are atrocious." I kept my eyes at my papers, ridiculously shy for someone in my position. But Alan only smiled, I could hear it in his voice. I could almost visualize the way his lips
would curve up, catlike.
"It's not your job to fix Sutcliffe's mistakes. It's sort of sweet, though."
I wasn't able to focus for the rest of the night.
My passive advances toward Alan weren't comparable to that of his other suitors, that much I had known. It was all I could manage- it's never been in my nature to be flirtatious.
The occasional talks we shared somehow had made me believe in some sort of fantasy world where the introverted were intriguing; they were simply fuel for my delusional hopes. And so I tried to ignore the way Alan looked at him, the way he smiled at his words.
My fake little reality shattered the day Sutcliffe accused them, saying what nobody else had dared.
"You two are so obviously a couple! How adorable!" He cooed, waggling his hips.
The two had only shared a knowing glance and smiled, not the smallest hint of shame or denial on their faces. I had the misfortune go have been in the same room, and my mug cracked in my hand. The sharp sound went unnoticed, as did I when I left. Quiet, unnoticed, only ever acknowledged when I yelled. It's the same way now. I slipped into my office and closed the blinds, massaging my temples under my frames. I shut my eyes, but I could still see them, their smiles burnt onto my eyes. Their moments together flashed on my lids, as if I were viewing another torturous cinematic record. I trembled, allowing my grip on the arms of my chair to tighten as I squeezed my eyes shut. My eyes stang, and I hated myself for feeling betrayed. How disgusting and presumptuous for me to assume I was included in that life. Tears were threatening to spill from my closed eyes when the door opened with a bang, making my eyes snap open. They were reddened, no doubt.
"Boss, there you are! Listen, I've-" Knox's words fell short as he saw me, concerned bewilderment spreading across his face. He set the book in his hands down on a shelf, his eyes never leaving me. Hastily, I fixed my glasses and turned my face away. He approached without hesitation, as if I were a problem easily fixed.

I barely heard the smooth, "Are you okay?" he spoke as I stared at his chest. The question was practically hypothetical, but I dryly replied that I was fine. So cockily he ignored my words and drew his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. His hands kneaded into my back, loosening my stiff shoulders. I may have muffled something about the unprofessional tone of it all- I can't quite remember. My gloved fingers clawed at the arms of my chair, in silent resistance to share the affection. I drew a breath, letting my eyes fall shut.