Chapter Text
I've worked here for three months now. I've moved out of Jim's house into my apartment. Jim still refuses to talk to Dwight for me, but today I've decided to make a move. And so I wear a low cut button-down and a short skirt.
"Here, Dwight," I say, handing him a fax. I sit on the corner of his desk, crossing my legs. "Cool bobbleheads," I say, even though I have no idea what or who they are. He nods, eyes staying trained on his work. Ugh. I want him so bad, and the fact that he is so indifferent to me just makes it worse. I glance at Jim, who shakes his head at me.
"What do you want, cretin?" He says, finally looking up at me. I give up, standing up to leave the room. On my way to the breakroom, I hear Pam say;
"You really should be more cautious around her, you know." Dwight rolls his eyes. "It's obvious that she likes you." I pause, wanting to hear his response.
"No," Jim interrupts, "She doesn't" Pam gives him a look.
"Come on, Jim," Pam pleads, "Don't you want her to be happy?" I enter the breakroom before hearing anyone's response. Tears pour down my face before I can stop them. I sit at the table, putting my head into my hands. The door flies open.
"Cretin," Dwight starts but stops upon seeing my state. "Who did this to you?" He looks angry, sitting next to me.
"You did!" I say, looking at him, "I've been trying to get your attention for three months and you haven't so much as noticed me!"
"False," He says. I wipe my face.
"What do you mean?" I ask. The door opens again.
"Dwight!" Jim yells, "What did you do?!" Dwight jumps up, puffing out his chest.
"Jim," Dwight says carefully, "We need to talk." They go into the men's bathroom, Jim still looking a bit suspicious. "Don't be mad at me," I hear Dwight say. I push my ear against the door. "But every time I see your sister, a little bit of blood rushes to my penis." What the fuck does that mean? I try to listen harder.
"Gross, Dwight," Jim says, keeping his tone, "Why'd you tell me that?"
"To ask your permission," He says.
"No," Jim says, "I'm sorry. Absolutely not. She's much younger, way out of your league, and MY SISTER." I lean in a little more, straining to hear. The door falls open. Shit. Dwight and Jim stare at me, shocked expressions on their faces. They both look as if they said something they don't want me to know. We're all silent for a minute.
"Larissa," Dwight begins, but I cut him off.
"I'm not out of your league." Oh God, Why did I say that?