#sept2020

Geralt stood by the window pensively as you rose from your bath. "Geralt, towel please," you prompted. He was meant to have set it down for you, but he’d forgotten as it was still in his hand.

He turned and moved to deliver it to you, but paused in his step, taking you in. "Are you just going to stare," you asked with a laugh.

Geralt cleared his throat and mumbled an apology, casting his eyes to the floor. He shouldn’t have looked at you so without your permission. He extended his arm and you took the towel from him. "Thank you," you said.

"Am I as good as you remember," Rachel asked, as the two of you lay side by side under her sheets.

"Better. I’m sorry I ever let you go."

"Really?"

"Yes. I’ve regretted missing out on something real with you for years. When you gave me a second chance, I knew I couldn’t let it happen again."

Wilson tapped his pen on his desk incessantly, hardly able to stop himself from glancing up and watching you fiddle with the hem of your skirt. "Stop doing that," he shouted, only lowering his voice to add, "it’s turning me on."

You smirked back at him. That hadn’t entirely been your intention, but you can’t say you weren’t happy about being such a distraction for him. "I can fix that," you offered, the smirk still plastered on your lips.

Normally, he wouldn’t be into fooling around in the office, but you watched as he smiled, popped a breath mint and rose from his desk.