EEEEEEE! EEEEEEE! EEEEEEE!
My eyes fly open and I am staring at my ceiling fan. In my bedroom. The loud EEEE sound is blaring from my alarm clock and I reach over to shut it off in an overly aggressive way.
"I HATE YOU ALARM CLOCK!" I scream to the inanimate object and then throw what is in reach at it to prove my point. A pillow and my Kindle miss the clock completely, but manage to knock everything else off my side table, including a cheap ceramic IKEA lamp that shatters on the floor.
"Now I hate you even more clock! See what you made me do!"
It doesn't cry. I think it's immune to my verbal abuse, shrugging it off as "Morgana's usual morning tirades."
I sit up in bed and stare at the bright red 7:01 on the clock and sigh.
"I'm sorry. It's not you it's me. I just can't stop dreaming about him. It's so frustrating, ya know? I mean I have barely worked with him and when I do I always manage to embarrass myself in some manner."
7:02 it says to me. I laugh and shake my head.
"I know, I know. The lap face plant was just the worst. It's not so much I tripped and fell into his crotch, but that I didn't try to get up right away like a normal person. He had to say my name, 'Ms Drake?' and physically push me away before I snapped back into reality."
7:03.
"You're right I do need to get laid or date or something.
I get up and walk over to unplug the clock, carefully avoiding the broken shards and take it into the bathroom with me as I start the shower. I plug it back into a wall socket before I undress and step into the warm water. Looking through the glass door I see a fogged up blinking red 12:00 starting back at me.
"I'm worried about today though. They are closing the office early for the holiday party. I know I'm going to see him there. It'll be so awkward. I haven't had to see him since the lap fiasco and since I have worked the last few days in Accounting they keep me so busy I don't have time to socialize with anyone."
Flashing 12:01.
"That's a good idea. Make an appearance and then make up an excuse to leave early. You're right about ..."
"Morgana! I'm your friend right?"
Sighing, I tilt my head back into the spray to rinse the conditioner from my hair knowing what's coming next.
"Yes Aria. Of course you're my friend."
I wipe at the steamed up glass and see wisps of platinum hair surrounding dark brown eyes peaking in. Jumping from fright, I slip but manage to grab onto the railing on the door. My life flashes before my eyes for a moment and I have to say, it looks sad. Mainly it involves my parents, Aria, my grandma and lots of cake.
"Don't scare me like that, Aria!"
"Then talk to me or at least a living being. It's pathetic when you fall back on the clock. I'm starting to get jealous of a digital device."
I shut off the water and open the door; Aria's arm shoves through the crack with my blue towel.
"Thanks. It's just that I had another dream about him."
"Then just screw him and get it over with. You haven't gotten laid in how long, Morgana? It's just your subconscious vagina talking. It's whisper screaming, 'Help Me!' and your brain can hear."
As I move past her to get out of the shower and make my way over to my robe to start my morning process, she finally shakes her head and walks over to the toilet to sit and pee. She knows this fight is useless with me.
It doesn't take me long to get ready and I'm at the office by eight fifteen. The day flies by when I finally feel a tap on my shoulder, I turn to see him. Mr. Payne is standing there looking down at me, his eyes squinting and face serious. I glance at the clock and notice it's 3:18 p.m. The party started two hours ago.
His stiff body is swaying in a circle. When Mr. Payne speaks I know something is wrong.
"I need to speak with you, Ms. Draaaake." He slurs my name. Oh good he's drunk. Can you see how badly this is going to end, because I can?
"Yes, Mr. Payne?"
His hand grips my chair and he leans over, placing his other hand on my desk, pinning me in place. Mr. Payne's face is only inches from mine.
"Call me Henrik." His whiskey soaked breath burns my nostrils and eyes.
"Yes, Henrik."
He smirks and glances down at my cleavage a little longer than is appropriate before looking up again. His hand leaves my chair and his fingertip presses right between my eyes.
"You don't have your glasses on, Morgana."
"I'm not in the basement this week. My eyes aren't irritated like they were last week."
He drops his finger and head at the same time as if suffering a mortal wound. After a moment he lifts his head and stares at me with darkened blue eyes.
"I liked your glasses."
Blood races throughout my body, finally landing at my core as his voice deepens with his last statement. I visibly shutter causing him to smirk. A few very awkward but arousing seconds pass and he shoots up to standing while giving his hands a good clap.