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"I'm so sorry, Blue! I'll clean it up right away!" You feel your face flush as you crouch over the shattered remains of his empty dinner plate you just dropped on the floor. You glance up at him and notice the frown forming, along with his tightly-closed eyes. You rush to pick up the pieces with your bare hands, stacking smaller bits onto the largest piece as quietly as you can.
The scrape of his chair on the floor makes your heart pound even faster, and you fold in on yourself even further, instinctively making yourself as small as possible. You can feel how close he is to you even before you see the points of his shiny shoes stop next to the mess.
"Get up," he barks.
You stand up immediately, not even stopping to put down the small pieces of glass you had collected in your hand. Despite the adrenaline running through your body, you do your best to stand still, eyes trained down on the floor.
Blue clicks his tongue at you, clearly displeased. He uses one foot to shift a small trashcan over between the two of you.
You flinch as his fingers grip your wrist, but you don't fight his hold. Blue brings your hand over the trashcan and carefully rotates it, letting the pile of broken glass fall into the bin. You keep your eyes on the floor, praying that whatever punishment he gives will be swift. You flinch again at the feel of his well-manicured nails trailing down your palm lightly, carefully removing any smaller shards of glass still stuck to your sweaty palm. Something warm ghosts over your fingertips; you steal a startled glance up. Blue's face is so close to your hand that you can feel his breath on your skin. His dark eyes scan your palm, then he traces his fingers along the same path. A shiver zips down your spine from the feeling; the tremor flows down to your arm where he grips it.
Blue looks up at you without moving his face away. His eyes meet yours, and he kisses your palm gently, smirking at your answering shiver.
"The next time you clean up broken glass, I want you to wear gloves," he murmurs over your fingers.
You wince at his words. Of course you should have worn gloves. You could have cut yourself and bled all over his office.
"Yes, Blue; I'm sorry," you answer quickly.
He smirks a little wider. Blue rubs his thumb in slow, hypnotizing circles over your hand. "I know you are, sweetheart. That's been your catchphrase since you got here. I've tried to give you some time and space to adjust, come out of your shell a little bit, but that's not happening, is it?"
The purr of his low voice almost lulls you enough to relax, but you know better. His accusation freezes you in place. You quickly look down and swallow hard, then tightly nod your agreement.
Blue tuts at you. "What is happening in that pretty head of yours to make you so timid?"
"I'm sor-"
Your apology turns into a squeak of surprise as he yanks your body towards him and wraps a strong arm behind your back. "Stop that. I don't want to hear another apology from you for the rest of the night. Is that clear?"
You nod quickly, body tense against his.
"Good girl. Now, I'm going to sit at my desk, and you're going to sit on my lap while we chat."
Tears start in your eyes, but you swallow past the tightness in your throat. "Yes, Blue."
He gives you a slight squeeze before stepping back and leading you to his chair. Once he's sitting down, he pulls your hand until you're standing sideways, then guides you down to his lap by your hips. His hands move over your body to mold you against him, urging your head down to rest your cheek on his shoulder.
"That's it, sweetheart. Just like that." Blue slides one arm to support the middle of your back, fingers wrapping over your elbow in a loose grip. His other hand cups your hip, keeping you close with just the weight of it resting on you.
"Take a deep breath, and when you let it out, relax against me," his orders rumble through your chest where it's pressed close to his.
You take a shaky breath in and let it out, releasing some of your tension with it.
"Good. Again," Blue commands softly.
Your next inhale is smoother, and you relax against him enough to feel each rise and fall of his chest move you.
Blue lets out a deep sigh. "Good, sweetheart. That's perfect, just like that. I don't want you to move, alright?"
You almost nod but stop yourself. "Ok," you whisper instead.
You feel his low him more than hear it. "Thank you, doll. I like it much better when you're calm like this. It lets me calm down, too."
You consider his words for a moment, turning over his gratitude in your mind, looking for a catch and not finding one. "You're welcome," you finally murmur.
He shifts underneath you.
"I'm not…too heavy, am I?" you ask tentatively.
Blue scoffs quietly. "No, you're not too heavy, and even if you were, do you think I'm the kind of guy to sit here in pain without saying anything?"
You tense against him and have to consciously relax again. "No, you're not," you agree.
"See, you already know me so well, don't you?" He squeezes your hip a little. "It's not you, just this old chair. This would be more comfortable in a bed, but I don't want to move right now."
You suck in a sharp breath. "Are you going to ask me that later? Ask me into bed with you?" You can't keep the anxiety out of your voice.
"No, honey. Not that I don't want to, but if I ask you now, you might say yes just to appease me. You'd probably shake the whole time, like a scared little bunny," he explains quietly. "I keep people in line all day; I don't want any drama at this time of the night."
"So…I'm not in trouble?" you venture the question.
"Oh, you're in trouble," he draws out in a sing-song voice, "but you're already being punished. So be a good girl and take it. We'll clean up the mess later." Blue punctuates his words with a heavy sigh and shifts down further on his chair.
You breathe a sigh of relief. "Yes, sir."