glenn mae.

Hooking up with your boss is some real fucking shit.

The night started out with the flirty body language I practiced early on in high school when I didn’t want to right out say “hey, you’re cute.” The “I’ll sit so close to you sitting that our legs will touch and we’ll feel this tingly feeling in our guts but we’ll try to ignore it and just occasionally look at each other with a dumb grin on our face” 

From there, it escalated. 

It was lingering eye contact. I hate that you have fucking David Bowie eyes. I want to stare and ask questions and know why your pupil looks like that, but I’m distracted by your raspy surfer dude voice that is both soothing and irritating at the same time. 

Let’s not get it twisted, so much of you is goddamn irritating. 

I don’t care that everyone was looking. There was something about the way your hand touched my elbow that made the music slow and blur to the background. Your face came into focus. The soft scent of your cigarette stained tongue sent a tingle from top of my forehead to the back of my knees.