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“Ouch!”
Robert looked up from the book in his hands, and raised an eyebrow when he saw Giselle shove her finger into her mouth.
“You okay?”
“Yes. I just poked myself with this needle again.” She let out a heavy sigh and dug around in her pocket for a moment before pulling out a small band-aid. Robert watched in silence as she wrapped it around her forefinger and noticed several other bandages covering both her hands. “I really do not like wearing these things. They make sewing so much more difficult.”
“Maybe you should take a break,” he suggested, offering her a half-smile.
Giselle simply shook her head, and took hold of her needle, resuming where she left off. Noticing a small crease on her forehead, he set his book aside and pushed up off the couch. He stepped up behind her, then slipped his arms around her waist, and pressed his lips against her shoulder.
“You need a break,” Robert murmured, kissing her again.
Another sigh escaped her lips, and he trailed his own along her warm skin. “You are distracting me.” Her body was tense, and she tried to pull away from him, but he simply held her tighter.
“How long have you been working on this?”
“I don’t know.” Giselle shrugged, nudging him with her elbow. “Days, maybe.”
Humming, Robert gently took hold of her hand, bringing her to a stop. “I can feel your headache from across the room.”
“And it will go away once I’ve finished this dress.”
The corner of his lips quirked up, her response sounding so much like something he might say, and he reached for the needle in her grasp. Giselle quickly pulled away, however, and a strand of hair fell in front of her face. She tucked it behind her ear before he had the chance to do it himself, then swallowed, forcing her gaze back on the dress form in front of her.
“I am almost done, Robert.” He stared at the material and tilted his head. While he definitely didn’t know much about clothes, or sewing, he could tell from the little amount of fabric being used that she was far from done. “Will you hand me that ribbon, please? The black one.”
Giselle pointed to a small box near the couch, and he opened his mouth to say no, and insist, again, she take a break, when an idea crossed his mind. Bending over, he plucked it from its home and held it up.
“This one?”
She nodded and extended her hand. When he didn’t give it to her, she met his gaze with a slightly frustrated look in her eye.
“Yes. That one.”
Robert looked at it, then shrugged. “No.”
Her irritated expression morphed into confusion, and she blinked, dropping her arm. “What?”
“You can’t have it,” he said, wrapping it around his wrist. “Not until you’ve taken a break.”
“Robert—”
“Is this for a client?” Giselle blinked again. “This dress, is it for you, or a client?”
“Me, but—”
“Then there’s no deadline, right? So, you can take a break.” Robert tied the ribbon with a satisfied smile, and held back a laugh that was threatening to burst out of him when he heard a quiet growl escape her throat.
“Please, just give me the ribbon, Robert.” She swung her arm forward, trying to grab his wrist, but he quickly dodged her attempt, folding his hands behind his back. “Robert!”
“Like I said—”
“Give it—”
“You can have it—”
“To me!”
“After you’ve taken a break.”
Giselle’s cheeks grew red with frustration, her breathing heavy, and she lunged towards him again. He managed to grab her before she could grab him, however, and placed her arms around his neck, much to her confusion. Smiling, he wrapped his own around her waist and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.
“Please,” she mumbled, melting against him when he kissed her once more. “I just want my ribbon.”
“And you can have it,” holding her tighter, Robert hoisted her up, and her legs wrapped around him instinctively. “After you’ve taken a break.”
Giselle whined, burying her face in his neck, and he carried her over to the couch. Carefully, he laid her down, then situated himself beside her. Her hand came to rest on his bicep, and he took it in his own. Slowly, he traced the tip of his thumb over the band-aids littering her fingers.
“What were you making?”
“A dress,” she sighed. “I wanted something new for that party your office is throwing.”
“That’s not for another two weeks,” Robert murmured, kissing her knuckles.
“Yes, I know. But I want it to be perfect.”
“It will be.” His lips pressed softly against her palm. “Everything you make is.”
Sliding his arms around her, he pulled her closer, and she took a deep breath, burying her face against his chest.
“I know how important these office parties are,” she exhaled, her voice shaky. “Your boss… he likes you now, and me, but I still worry. I don’t want to make a bad impression and ruin everything.”
“You won’t,” Robert assured her, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Carl likes you way more than he likes me. If anyone is at risk of ruining anything, it’s me.” Giselle nodded, though she still felt tense in his embrace, and he slowly ran his fingers through her hair. “You’ve already won over everyone in my office, Giselle, you don’t need to stress yourself out over anything. They all love you.”
She didn’t respond, and he kissed the top of her head. Silently, he wondered if his singing might help put her at ease, as his words didn’t seem to be doing the trick, when her fingers began tapping his side in an odd, yet familiar, pattern. He had seen, or rather felt, her do this more than once, whenever she was lost in her own mind, and trying to center herself. His hold on her tightened, and little by little, she finally started to relax against him.
“You were right,” she finally said, sliding her leg over his hip. “I needed a break.”
Robert hummed, resting his hand on her lower back, and Giselle slowly dragged her fingertips along his forearm. Stopping at his wrist, she gave the ribbon wrapped around him a tug.
“May I have this now, please?”
“No.” He lifted his arm straight up, and she huffed, a small grin forming on her face.
“You said—”
“Your break isn’t done.” Robert pressed his finger between her brows. “I can tell by this little crease that you’ve still got a headache.”
“Oh— I do not!” Giselle pushed his hand away and tried once again to grab her ribbon. “Robert.”
“No.”
Rolling them over, he laid down on top of her, successfully pinning her against the couch, and she let out another huff.
“You are being a butthead.”
“This is exactly what you do to me when I have a headache,” he pointed out, kissing her nose. “If it makes me a butthead, then it makes you one, too.”
“I do not trap you,” Giselle whined, sliding her arms around him as his lips met her neck.
“Yes, you do. And you use your thighs as leverage. In fact,” Robert paused, pushing up onto his elbows. “Maybe I should try tempting you with my arms.”
“What—”
“Here.” He playfully shoved his forearm in her face, and she laughed, trying to push him away. “Is this tempting you enough to relax?”
“Robert—”
“Maybe you like this one better.” Robert tried to show her his other arm, but she wiggled under him, quickly grabbing his wrist.
“Fine! Fine!” Giselle giggled, her cheeks red. “I will relax, but only if you stop being such a butthead!”
“Mm, that’s going to be tough. You know I can’t always control that.” He leaned in, bringing their lips together with a smile. “But I’ll try,” he murmured, kissing her again. “For you.”