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“sweetheart—ah. head-down time again. would you like me to clear the floor or are the confines of this horrendously grey prison enough of a shield?”
despite your obvious lack for want of conversation, a little laugh escapes the muffled haven of your arms. the voice above your head is familiar, warm with a cheeky kind of snark and the accompanying smell of something good. sweet. sugary…
slowly, your head lifts to be greeted with the sight of vermilion hues tinted with fondness that fills your chest. and, of course, the box of cookies in his hands.
“are those for me?” the question is a little timid, still unsure of how to properly weigh his affections in your hands. sitting upright at your desk, you quickly make space for the cutely decorated tin placed where your forehead once lay against the cool wood.
sylus shrugs a shoulder with natural ease. “no. the demon i brokered a deal with cast them aside and deemed them not worthy enough of a sacrifice. so i'm handing them off to the next best thing.”
you wrinkle your nose at his dramatics and he grins, sharp toothed in his teasing. a hand moves to pat your head lightly. “silly girl. of course they're for you. congratulations on the promotion.”
a wide grin spreads on your lips to match his own despite your exhaustion, joy beaming from the inside out. he remembered. he remembered your excitement, your previously thought mindless chatter about moving up the metaphorical ladder, something you'd been putting substantial efforts in in hopes for an eventual turnaround. you didn't want to end up in the same position fifteen years from now, brain melting out of your ears in front of a screen. he'd listened. and after finally getting what you'd sought after for months, he went out of his way to congratulate you.
"thank you," you utterly quietly, hands hovering over the finely detailed tin. engraved loops of wine red against the white exterior branded with the logo of a pastry shop that charged more than your rent, tied gracefully with what you suspect is authentic silk—because someone like him would never gift anyone anything beneath himself. "you really didn't have to."
"true," he states rather bluntly, "but i did anyway. you're no longer the scared intern so easily pushed around by those too lazy to do their own grunt work. be proud of that."
his words make you smile, head ducked shyly as you recall the first time the two of you had crossed paths. you, not even a week in your temporary position, jittery and bright-eyed and much more nervous than you could hold within your body. more errand-and-coffee runner than actual worker, but hey—you were on the clock. anything to pay the bills, right?
sylus qin, an enigma to the entire office building, a proud thing that scraped the sky and seemed to tower over the clouds themselves. a stalking figure of height himself who dressed in colors more suitable for a masquerade ball than being under the mind numbingly bright overhead lights. almost boogeyman-like in the rumors you heard about him. the heir to the company. white hair, red eyes, a piercing and unforgiving stare and even harsher words of criticism. but while he was feared to an extent, he was also loved for his looks. someone who could have easily been the ceo with the amount of authority he carried himself with.
you can't even begin to describe how many times you'd heard the words wet and sylus in the same sentence. the depravity of your floor made you want to gag. sure, the times you did see him, you could admit he was handsome, but you were a little less reluctant to make him the star of your office place erotica fantasies. no offense to the other interns and older ladies you worked alongside.
but as fate or the universe or what have you had it, the two of you would collide in an elevator. your back pressed into the left corner as he languidly leaned against the right side wall. it felt like if you even breathed wrong he'd snap at how insignificant your presence was. your position was meaningless in the grand scheme of the company's goals, and you'd be kicked out on to the curb just as quickly as you'd arrived with another shiny-eyed intern to fill your place.
as the elevator ascended slowly, the overhead screen blinking with each level passed, you'd felt his gaze on you. taking in your best attempt at business casual, hair swept back and away from your face, and pointed gaze on the floor in between your flats. your lips pressed shut intentionally lest you say something mortifying and really jeopardize your chances of getting a more secure position.
sylus exhales quietly and your body tenses. the overhead screen blinked onward. 22… 23… 24…
a few more floors until you reached your destination and you could scurry back to your desk to hide. 25… 25—
the elevator lurched suddenly, making you yelp in surprise and grip the railing. the man next to you startles as well, brows furrowed as he looks up to the screen. the bright red twenty-five flickered ominously but showed no sign of going any further.
the two of you were stuck.
your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, a frenzied screech of nonononono ringing in your head as sylus reaches for the emergency button. you don't even register the calm words he utters into the receiver, slowly sinking down into your corner as your papers flutter to the ground in despair. you were stuck in an elevator. how many movies had you seen that depicted this exact scenario turning for the worse? you recall the grating screech of metal bending and electrical wires snapping and catching on fire, and worst of all, the unforgiving pull of gravity giving way to your awaited end several feet off the ground.
bile rises in your throat, ugly and scared. your hands feel like lead as you wrap them around your trembling form, shuddering breaths wracking your chest. you were going to die. and not just die, but die someone meaningless. someone who hadn't done anything significant.
a weight slowly settles down beside you, startling you out of your spiral. he pauses when your head whips up and you flinch at the sudden closeness. his hands raise in surrender, brows furrowed at the state of your unraveling.
"they're working on restarting the elevator," he states slowly. "they were doing maintenance. that's why it stopped."
the only thing you can bring yourself to do is nod. a jerky thing practically oozing with despair. it makes his expression fall back into something neutral. assessing.
"you're scared." the blunt statement makes your head snap towards his in shock. then quick irritation. of all things to say—
"and the sky is blue." you snark immediately, then snap your mouth shut. shit.
sylus blinks, then—to your horror—grins. the sight is a bit unbecoming. you'd never seen that much emotion on his face in the few times you did catch a glimpse of him in the building.
"sorry, i—oh fuck, sorry, i-i didn't mean that." the words tumble out of you after the dam had cracked, nerves gripping your vocal chords and squeezing them out. "i don't like elevators. i would r-rather take the stairs, but this big ass building—"
sylus snorts, the sound so unlike him. you giggle shakily in return, a little hysterical. at least your fear was entertaining to him.
"i was in a hurry for a meeting. my supervisor needed some papers—"
your heart drops. the papers. your head whirls around—
only for a lesser weight to be dropped by your feet.
"the meeting for the merger, yes? funny." you gape at the neat stack sitting on the floor, looking back at him as he taps the front page. "i was just heading there myself to represent my father."
this time, your heart sinks for a different reason. you'd heard rumors earlier that morning about a new shift in leadership, words like death and son floating over your head in the break room.
despite panic seeping into every breath you took, you try your best to offer your condolences with an awkward pat to his shoulder. "i'm sorry for your loss," you utter softly. "he must really believe in you if you're taking over."
before he can respond the elevator lurches a second time and you're quick to cocoon yourself once again, lights flickering before it resumes service as if nothing happened. when the doors open, a cacophony of cheers and worries greets him as he steps out first.
you'd missed the way he turned to look for you after he managed to get his tearful secretary unlatched herself from his arm. all he'd caught was the back of your head slipping around the corner. and during the meeting, he catches not a single glimpse of you. he learns later on that you'd gone home after requesting the rest of the day off, pulled only because you'd been so visibly affected with your near brush with death. and despite that, you'd comforted him.
he'd never forget that. and he'd made sure you didn't.
at first it was suddenly seeing him everywhere. a sudden interest in your sector of work. your supervisor wasn't so thrilled with the recent uptick in visits but a smile could only be plastered on in the face of the new ceo. tara, your cell—cubicle mate, swooned every time he made an appearance.
"do you think he knows that his smile could kill someone? he should know how dangerous that is. i think i need to talk to hr." an incredulous look thrown her way, to which she'd just shrug and giggle.
"look at those arms. bet he's real good at carrying things around. like me." she'd croon after watching him trail after an intern who looked like they wanted to sink into the floor.
"it's like work morale in the form of a hot man," she'd sigh when he spoke to your supervisor across the floor.
all you can really do is just laugh at her antics, shaking your head. his sudden appearance was a little jolting, but it's to be expected that he'd want to know how every floor in the building was doing. it's not like you expected him to remember your face. so you continue as normal.
normal is promptly interrupted when he figured out where your desk was. weeks after the elevator incident, standing near your desk one morning when you finally make it to your section. the new addition makes you yelp in surprise, nearly spilling your expensive but graciously needed seven dollar coffee all over the floor.
"are you always this skittish? i thought it was just with elevators."
you stare. he tilts his head curiously. your entire section watches with bated breath as his gaze drops to assess your coffee.
"caffeine wouldn't help with that, either." another once over, then, "or at least, if you're going to get coffee, get the good type that isn't watered down and dumped with copious amounts of sugar."
ceo or not, it's that comment that irks you, frowning at his judgmental statement. "that's.. that's very inconsiderate of you." you clear your throat once, then push past him into your cubicle. "i happen to like my coffee like this. what i drink doesn't affect my performance, so you shouldn't care."
you could hear a pin drop in your section after you settle into your seat. you ignore his raised brows and tara's immediate floundering, trying to assure the man that you didn't mean anything by it and you were just cranky in the mornings without it. sylus had left without another word and the weight of several gazes had followed you around for the rest of the day.
the next morning, you pause at the placement of a pack of coffee grounds next to a note.
— a performance booster suited to the likes of your caliber. work better with better coffee.
to tara's surprise, you didn't feel like strangling your boss. she accuses you of going soft. you vehemently disagree, merely stating politeness and a want to not get fired. but your soft spot for him is undeniable. to everyone else, according to her. you just really don't want to get fired.
thus starts the song and dance of essentially getting showered with gifts that leads you to today. you open the tin to the comforting smell of butter and sugary delight, a silly smile gracing your lips.
"i feel spoiled." a murmured confession that makes his brows raise. "they're going to think i'm getting preferential treatment. it's a miracle tara is a sweet person. or i haven't been greeted with pitchforks from section b…"
"mm." his tone is indifferent and it makes you narrow your eyes at him. he's not focused on you, though. "she's not the only one sweet on you still."
you follow his gaze to the further end of the floor, where a rowdy bunch of workers clamor at a single desk. already, exhaustion pools at your feel at the mere sight of them. shoving and back patting and the works. you frown and sylus huffs a small laugh.
"i could fire him if you'd like." he's casual about the offer, prompting you to whirl around in your chair. your disgruntled response makes him shrug. "what."
"sylus!"
"what?" his grin is playful, tapping a finger on the surface of your desk. "i'll do it right now. watch. here he comes."
true to his words, the sound of footsteps makes your heart lurch into your throat, eyes widening as sylus' expression turns pleasant. you're forced to adopt the same faux pleasantries when the sound a pair of loafers stop at your desk.
"boss." a salute, to which sylus just blinks at. when he turns to you, his expression softens significantly. almost awkward. "hi," he offers gently.
you feel bad. you normally don't mind andrew and his band of hoodlums, preferring to stay clear of their leering and jeering and the occasional loud eruption of cheers. they had their own part of the floor, you had yours, and you kind of coexisted on a shared mutual agreement.
despite that, it felt almost fairytale like for the leader of that group to form a small crush on one of the workers from the other side of the floor. at first you'd thought the means of his affections were meant for tara, as flowers and small gifts would also be left on her desk, but…
you'd soon realize he thought her desk was yours, much to your embarrassment, tara's joking lament, and sylus'…
well. you knew how he felt about andrew and his friends.
"hi, andrew," you utter carefully. "lovely morning, isn't it?"
andrew perks up. sylus' stare turns wolfish.
"always a lovely morning with you around. right, boss?" andrew flashes a grin in his direction only to be met with what you think is a smile. a piss poor attempt, but what can you do.
looking down at your desk, his brows raise once he notices the expensive box of cookies. "that smells good. you sharin' or is someone else after your heart, too?"
never mind that the ceo of your entire company was lounging at your desk during work hours was enough of a problem. overlook his affinity for randomly picking out things he thinks you'll like and personally delivering them to your desk, too. you see sylus' posture shift minutely and resign yourself to your fate as a mere bystander to workplace destruction.
as dense as he was, andrew was a tolerable coworker. too bad your boss didn't care—
"what, am i not allowed to spend time with my favorite person?"
andrew chokes mid inhale, bringing a hand to his chest as embarrassment colors his face. "you're—you—"
…maybe an insignificant death wasn't so bad now. you can only gape at sylus in a speechless manner, truly at a loss for words as andrew's stuttering and excessive hand waving grows more frantic.
"oh—you and—ah, shit, why does this keep happening to me?!" you're swiftly issued a deep bow and a blurted apology and he's gone before you can even utter a single word.
sylus turns back to you, pleased. "that went well, no?"
you nearly toss the tin at his head, held at bay only by the cameras nearby (and the sanctity of your cookies). your voice lowers into a hiss, "why would you do that?"
"did i say anything bad? i didn't say anything bad. i just," a vague hand wave that has your blood slowly begin to simmer under your skin, "implied. and he assumed far more than what i implied. that's not on me."
your eye twitches. wordlessly, you set the cookies aside and turn back to your desktop, your gaze pointedly set on the screen. sylus' laid back attitude instantly shifts.
"are you upset?" he asks after a long pause, brows furrowed. no response. "did you actually like him?"
the glare you throw his way makes him back off, hands raised in surrender. "understood. leaving you alone now."
the next day, a bouquet of flowers sits at your desk. your favorites. you don't care to know how he found that out, promptly taking the grand display and setting it in the break room.
the following day, a gift wrapped with an attached gift card. you gift it to tara, who squeals and wraps you in a tight hug.
a box of chocolates. jewelry. bottles of expensive wine. gift after gift piles on your desk, and by the end of the second week of rejecting his apologies, you're running out of places to redistribute. and as if the universe felt your work life was a joke, the two of you meet in an elevator again.
the doors open and he looks up, his eyes widening before quickly schooling his expression. you make to turn around, stubborn enough to take the stairs to leave the building if you had to, but he stops you with a hand around your wrist.
"you shouldn't take the stairs. it's late."
your resolve is weak. it's been a long day and you really just want to go home. but with a pointed sigh, you enter the metal box and seclude yourself to the left corner. he hovers on the right side as the elevator begins to descend.
"sweetheart."
the elevator is silent. you're still a little peeved at his actions from days ago, even if you're a little grateful in some relieved kind of way. andrew had taken to just friendly interactions now, and you're able to breathe a bit better. still, your arms cross over the items tucked in your hands and you feel him physically deflate, his posture loosening.
"oh. you're still upset." when you grant him the barest of eye rolls, he crosses your side of the elevator, something akin to a petulant pout on his lips. "are you still upset?
"you almost threatened someone's livelihood." you utter flatly. "and then turned around and made him assume we were in a relationship."
"he doesn't bother you with those godawful pick up lines, so i consider that a win-win situation—"
"no—you don't understand." his mouth snaps shut when you whirl around with a finger pointed in his face. "you said it so easily. i'll do it right now. watch. like it was funny to you."
you purse your lips before letting out a sigh. "yeah, andrew doesn't flirt with me anymore. win-win situation. but you put me in a weird position. he looks at me like he's a little scared of me now. he pulled me aside a few hours later and apologized for intruding."
a little laugh escapes you. "'i didn't know you and the boss were together. i just thought he really liked you—like how most bosses have favorites. please don't make him fire me.'"
sylus gives a little exhale. "oh."
"yeah. oh." you shake your head, pushing at his shoulder. "we're not even together. but, i guess—thank you? for the stunt you pulled. now my coworker is actually scared he's going to lose his job because you decided you wanted to mess with him—"
the elevator stalls. your voice dies in your throat.
again.
"no. no." your back hits the wall, gripping your bag and your coat. this had to be some sick kind of joke. "why does this keep happening when i'm with you?"
your breathing picks up when you notice how dark it is. no one was coming to save you. the thought makes you emit a weak sound, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes.
his hands hover at your sides, guilt crossing his features. "i'm sorry, love. for the hovering. for the posturing. i'm a selfish man. i wanted your companionship."
"you can get my companionship in the afterlife." your tone makes the joke fall flat but he offers a smile. small, but more genuine than what you've seen from him.
"sorry for the gifts as well." his hand lifts to smooth a thumb over your cheek, catching a lone tear you hadn't even felt. "i've been told i'm very forward."
"i liked them." a shy admittance that makes his eyes spark a little brighter in the dim lighting. "tara liked the gift card, too."
he pinches your side and you laugh, sniffling quietly. his forehead rests against yours. grounding.
"i can forgive the donations back to the office," he drawls with an exaggerated sigh, even as his smile still lingers on his lips. "sorry for making you uncomfortable." the hand that pinched your side rests against your waist now, the other one still gently caressing your cheek. "...are you uncomfortable now?"
his lashes flutter against impossibly high cheekbones. your noses nearly touch. he smells like something rich and dark, a heady scent that draws your gaze upwards to meet his. he's so close. close enough to…
"no." a definitive statement. his hand slides to your back. your hands rest on his chest, feeling his heart beat faster underneath your palm. "are you?"
his hand pulls you impossibly closer. his lips brush over yours just barely. your own heart stutters within your ribcage, threatening to burst out of your chest the more he stalls. and finally, finally, you feel the weight of his lips against yours, relief and want shuddering through him as he backs you against the wall—
"is anyone in there alright?"
the two of you spring apart like opposing sides of a magnet. looking up, you see a sliver of light on the upper floor from where the voice supposedly came from.
stylus clears his throat, slight annoyance budding in his tone. "what's wrong with the elevator this time?"
a slew of hushed curses waft down. "sorry about that boss! scheduled maintenance, and all that… we'll get the lift moving as soon as possible!"
the two of you share a flat look. "if by any chance," sylus mumbles into the open air, "there's a new maintenance team by next week…"
all you can do is snort. before long, the elevator continues its descent.