#alexanderscorner

“Boss?” Karen asked, knocking on the door frame of his office. She smiled. “Got that file from Peterson downstairs for you,” she said, coming in and shutting the door. Her lips curled into a smile as she locked it. “...I’ve wanted to kiss you all day, you know that?”

“Come here,” Athena smirked, curling her finger and beckoning Alex over. She’d made herself up a bubble bath in her huge jacuzzi tub. She’d lit some candles and gotten herself a glass of wine. It was the perfect way to relax after a hard week at work until she’d heard Alex come in. “Don’t just stand in the doorway, join me.” 

          She hadn’t seen him since that night, since he’d kissed her on her doorstep and she’d run before telling him why he felt like he knew her. It wasn’t right for her to do. He was with someone else. Her friend. She couldn’t do that to her friend, no matter how much love she still carried for the man he once was and has become. Inanna was ignoring his calls and texts. They couldn’t be in contact, so when she answered her door and saw Alex standing there, her stomach wound itself into knots. “You can’t... You shouldn’t be here.” It was all she could manage to get out. // @alexanderscorner

It was one of the good nights at the club she danced at; as always there were guys who confused the dancers for strippers, tried to tip them, touch them, a few of rude handsy men were thrown out, all the usual. But there were one pair of eyes she kept on looking towards while she was up there dancing with her crew of girls; mysterious, and intriguing; luring her in. Once Elisia was off the stage, she grabbed herself a quick glass of water and slid through the crowd in the direction of the man; she was usually quite fast for someone so small yet with how she was dressed tonight, many wanted to grab her attention. “--- So, did you enjoy the show, handsome?”she asked, flipping her raven dark hair back and leaning against the counter with her back, pretending like she was giving a damn about all those people before dark hues landed onto him.

Gretchen smirked, running her hands over the buttons of his shirt. “It is your shirt,” she said, nodding at him. “I stole it because I spilled a rum and coke on my shirt at work. So... your shirt was a good substitute.” She shifted on his bed, rolling to her belly, legs crossed at the ankle, to watch him. “Wanna come steal it back?”

She was there, at the club, a table in the corner, right before seven, and hoping he met her there.

No matter how many times she comes to New York to either visit her sister or for work, she couldn’t for the life of her find her way around even her GPS on her phone couldn’t navigate properly. She walked up to the closest person to her. “Excuse me,” she smiled politely to the man, “Can you please help me find an easy way to the Museum of Modern Art?” she asked. “Siri is not my friend at the moment and keeps giving me the wrong directions.

“I know, I know. It doesn’t look like much,” she said as they approached the entrance. “But, I swear, they are super nice and pour damned good drinks. More top shelf than you would figure. Plus, I can try to kick your butt at pool.”