Order 73 ~DNF~

𝟘𝟠

𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝒫𝒪𝒱

"Come on Leia," I draw out her name sheepishly, unsure how to break her silent treatment. She shoots me a look and I cower under her sharp stare. Her hips sway with each exasperated step she takes, and I gulp the dryness out of my throat.

"You're...you're looking beautiful, as always." I try again.

"Flattery won't save you," She narrows her eyes, checking the bottom right of her laptop as she walks. "Not when you show up half an hour late."

"Hey, who cares about the briefing anyway? I got to the actual thing on time." I defend. She glares and I rub the back of my neck with my hand.

"Latte?" I chuckle nervously. The to-go cup slides on the table toward her and she snorts, shaking her head.

"Aw, you got the little red sprinkles." She sips it slowly, smiling at the taste.

"I knew you couldn't be mad at me. You love me too much."

She ignores me. "It's a bit cold though. It would have been warmer if you were here on time."

"Oh my God, will you let it go." I cross my arms, fake pouting.

"Mmmhm. I'll resign right now, just watch." She threatens without much malice. "But you would fall apart without me and my conscience wouldn't allow that."

I hum. "So, who's this George fellow?" She asks.

"An annoying and very clumsy barista I met yesterday," I tell her after a beat. She lifts a hand and brushes her hair out of her face, revealing a small smile. I take a moment to admire it.

Leia is always running around doing something, whether it was going through all my important documents and emails, checking up with the interns or being my representative when I can't attend something, she always has her expression set into a permanent poker face. She never lets anybody, including me, know how much stress she was under. Smiles, other than in greeting, were rare and everyone here yearns to be the recipient of one. It's hard not to admire her spirit.

"Barista? But he's part of the doctoral program. Why doesn't he have an actual job?" She asks, furrowing her brows.

"I don't know. We don't exactly get along....he is smart though—"

"I'll say." She interrupts. "You haven't genuinely agreed with anyone in a while."

I shrug. "He probably got lucky—anyway I want to get to know him a little bit more before I make any assumptions about him. Got his file?"

She shakes her head. "He was a replacement for someone else."

"Course he was." I sigh, lacing my fingers around my neck. The call he received back at the cafe makes more sense now.

She hums and her scarlet nails press against the cup as she takes another long sip, dragging her tongue across her bottom lip to catch the drops that ruined the finish of her lip gloss. "You know, I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to get you coffee, boss."

"I don't think I put that in your job description," I remark, settling down at my desk and turning on the numerous monitors. Notifications start sliding onto the screen and I click through them, making eye contact over it. "What I do need you to do, is get a report on all those kids. Anyone you think will pique my interest, bring their work up here when they're done."

"Poor kids are in for it. " She sighs and swipes around on her laptop, working on what looked like a million things at once. I should get my assistant an assistant. "This is asking for disaster."