#ahhhh finally

[totalsellout]

IRENE & SEULGI TILT — The 2nd Mini Album

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

is it casual? - a lyra x grayson au fic

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

—————now playing: casual by doja cat ♫ ♪

pairings: lyra kane x grayson hawthorne. tags: boss x assistant au. part 1, part 2

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

LYRA:

Lyra was just in the midst of finishing up a document when she got the notification from Grayson to enter his office. She had seen Jameson Hawthorne enter just a couple minutes prior, and assumed that her presence was requested so that her boss wouldn’t strangle him.

Lyra had only been working for Grayson for about 2 weeks, but his brothers’ teasing was something that she had long known about.

Lyra sighed, getting up and mentally preparing herself.

“Yes?” she asked. Grayson blew out a breath at her entrance, clearly having been pushed to the brink by his brother.

“We have a client that we need to meet with.” Grayson said, sliding a paper over his desk. “Do you think you can arrange a meeting with him? I have…” Grayson gave Jameson a mean side stare as Lyra picked up the paper. “other things to deal with at the moment.” Jameson just held his hands up, a dangerous smirk settling on his lips.

“I haven’t been doing anything.” Jameson retorted. Then he gasped, pointing at Grayson’s forehead. “Hey, I’ve never seen this forehead vein before. Does this mean you’ve reached a new level of disappointment in me?” Grayson stood up.

“Shut your mouth, Jameson.” Grayson snapped. Jameson turned to her.

“Please make your boss stop talking to me.” Jameson said. Lyra raised a brow at him, thoroughly amused with this entire altercation.

“If only I had that power.” Lyra said, wistfully. Grayson looked offended, but Jameson only laughed. She caught Grayson’s eye, and saw that although he was offended, the annoyed look in his eye from Jameson wasn’t there for her. There was something softer there instead.

Something that Lyra both wanted, and feared.

She looked away.

“Anyway, I’m just here to take Avery to breakfast.” Jameson said, finally using a serious tone. The mention of Avery’s name brought Lyra back to a time where she had watched that interview, where she thought that no person who could kiss like that could be all evil. Where she had put hope in Grayson, before realizing that she didn’t need his help, that she couldn’t want it.

And that went double for right now. After all, she was his assistant, not his damsel in distress.

Grayson gave Jameson an exasperated look, sending Lyra back to the present.

“Then go do that.” he gritted out, giving Jameson a cold stare. Jameson grinned.

“Aye aye, boss.” He said, saluting Grayson before walking out. Lyra smiled as she watched a vein pulse in Grayson’s forehead. Annoyed, indeed.

“I’m going to go get a coffee, and then I’ll arrange a meeting with the man you mentioned. Would you like a coffee yourself?” Lyra asked. Grayson looked up at her, his eyes lingering on hers.

“Yes, that would be great. And you remember how I like it?” Grayson asked. Lyra rolled your eyes.

“Nobody could forget an order that looks and tastes like Hades’ go-to.” Lyra retorted. Grayson’s lips twitched.

“Again with the comment on how I drink my coffee?” he said.

“It has a taste that is just as disgusting and despicable as the person drinking it.”

“It has health benefits.”

“Oh, yes,” Lyra said, dragging out the words to make her point. Already she could see Grayson shift, as if preparing himself for her next tease. “You often skip lunch, immerse yourself in work, and stay in the office late despite the fact that you send me home right on time even on our busiest days. But no, you’re extremely healthy because you drink black coffee.” Grayson’s eyebrows raised as he straightened, his eyes challenging.

“You shouldn’t be able to say that to me.” he said, almost as if remarking the logic of it himself. Grayson often played the power card, but it was more to see how she’d react, never to restrict her. And, as always, Lyra didn’t even bat an eye. Instead, she shrugged a shoulder at him, before starting for the door with a retort on her tongue.

“And yet I just did.”

GRAYSON:

Grayson took a sip of his black coffee, mentally hearing what Lyra would say if she saw him. Her and her comments.

But at the same time, Grayson would be lying if he said he didn’t love them. If he said he didn’t purposefully say things that would rile her up, that would cause her to give him one of her quick jabs. And yet I just did. That was feisty. And Grayson loved it.

Shaking his head with a smile, Grayson continued to review a document. And another. And another. He continued this process for another 5 minutes until Lyra entered through the door, once again. He could feel her presence before her hand even reached for the knob. Never knocking, of course. That “wasn’t her thing”, as she stated the 4th day on the job when Grayson had questioned her about it.

“Grayson, I have a little problem.” Lyra said, holding the document regarding the client he had asked her to plan a meeting with. Grayson raised a brow, leaning forward with curiosity.

“What is it?” he inquired. Lyra stepped closer and placed the document on his table.

“The client you want to meet with. He wants to meet over drinks.” Lyra said. Grayson grimaced. That was something that he had to explain to Lyra. Investors and clients who want to meet over drinks only waste your time. Grayson had been working at the foundation for years now, and thats something that he’d learned time and time again after being screwed over by men who claimed that “any good deal can be shaken on over drinks”.

“I know.” Lyra said, reading his expression.

“Did you try to convince him to change the location?” Grayson asked. Lyra’s lips formed a thin line.

“Yes. Multiple times. But he insisted that it was either drinks, or nothing.” she said. Then, under her breath, muttered, “what an asshole”. Grayson gave her a cautionary look, but didn’t say anything else. She wasn’t exactly wrong, anyway.

“Okay. I think we’re just going to have to meet up over drinks. Arrange a time with him and we’ll discuss things then.” Grayson finally said after going over his options in his head. Lyra shrugged as if saying “if you say so”, and was about to walk out when Grayson spoke.

“Oh, and Lyra, maybe let me stick to the conversations. You’re good at meeting clients, but you get to the point at the speed of light and leave no room for small talk.” Grayson told her. Lyra looked downright offended.

“I’m a great conversationalist. It’s just not my fault that I don’t have much practice; I don’t think you’ve ever spoken to me at work about something other than work.” Lyra retorted, an offended look still on her face. Grayson raised a brow at her, a smile touching his lips.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t asked you about the weather enough.” he said, his voice genuine despite the sarcasm in his comment. Lyra gave him a look.

“You should be. Anyway, I need to go arrange a meeting with Mr. O’Reilly and pray that my terrible conversation skills get better in the time before the meeting.” Lyra said, still annoyed. She was about to reach for the doorknob when Grayson spoke.

“Oh, and Lyra?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Yes?” she asked, turning around. Grayson held her gaze for a moment, before a smile spread across his lips, slowly widening with every passing second as he could just picture her reaction to what he was about to say.

“Is that a new skirt?” he asked, his tone conversational. Lyra went still for a moment, before a glare found its way on her face and she rolled her eyes, walking out before Grayson could call her back in.

LYRA:

Lyra stepped out of Grayson’s car, surveying the bar that Shawn O’Reilly, the man that they were meeting with, had picked to discuss terms with. Lyra wasn’t one to judge by looks, but if she had a place in mind to meet with a client in, it was not this bar.

“I feel overdressed.” Lyra said, grimacing as she watched people in cowboy hats and casual attire walk into the bar, while she was clad in a brown peacoat, black skirt, lace leggings, and long black boots. Grayson glanced at her.

“The key is to look at everybody else as if they’re underdressed.” Grayson told her. Lyra gave him a look.

“And I’m guessing that that’s something you tell yourself everyday?” Lyra asked. Grayson’s lips quirked.

“You’ve guessed correctly.” he answered. Lyra huffed, before walking forward suddenly.

“Come on, Hawthorne. Don’t want to keep him waiting.” she said, her back facing him as she walked away from him and towards the bar.

They were 5 drinks in, and O’Reilly was completely untouched. It became harder to try and stay professional and on track when you were tipsy, but he seemed fine, talking on and on about some fishing trip and how they got lost, causing him to lose “precious work time”. Lyra side glanced at Grayson to see if he was affected, and on the surface, he looked completely fine.

But when she glanced at his hand, she could see his fingers tapping away on the table. Something he never did.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his hand, watching his lithe fingers gently graze the table again and again and again in a fidgeting manner, before Lyra finally regained some dignity and looked away.

She suddenly brushed her body against Grayson’s, their shoulders touching and their eyes meeting as she tried to communicate her thoughts: O’Reilly is fine and we’re tipsy. We’re never going to negotiate like this.

Grayson seemed to understand, and she could se him turning towards O’Reilly in an attempt to make an excuse, when O’Reilly bursted out laughing.

“Oh my god, you’re a couple, aren’t you?” he asked. Lyra’s cheeks turned bright red and all she could hear was Grayson’s quick rebuttals, before Shawn spoke up again.

“You know, there’s no need to deny it. I can tell. My wife and I met because she was my secretary.” Shawn said, his eyes sparkling. “You know, I understand why you’re trying to hide it. Me and my wife faced a lot of criticism for dating. But you should have told me! I just gained a shit ton of respect for you two kids.” Lyra, even in her drunken state, heard his words and knew what she had to do. I just gained a shit ton of respect for you two kids, he had said. And it didn’t seem like we were getting anywhere before. The only way Lyra and Grayson were going to land a deal with this guy… was if they played along.

“You’ve caught us!” Lyra giggled, interrupting Grayson’s denials as she latched onto his arm. There was one moment where she glanced up, and saw the look on his face. Like confusion, and doubt, and something else that was lingering in his eyes. Lyra stared at him for a second, trying to communicate what she was thinking.

Just trust me, her eyes said. Grayson was still for a beat, before he turned to Shawn.

“We didn’t know whether or not to be public about our relationship, and it’s new, so we’re just taking it slow.” Grayson told O’Reilly. The mans face brightened.

“I get it. You’re young, and in love. Just take your time.” Shawn told them. Lyra nodded.

“Thank you.” she told O’Reilly, taking Graysons hand in hers. His hands were cold in contrast to Lyra’s warm ones, and she felt the effect of them—the effect of him—like being dunked into cold water. She felt like she was doing something wrong.

But worst of all, she felt like she wasn’t capable of letting go.

“Hey, Gray, why don’t we take 5 to go discuss something in the hall quickly, hm?” Lyra asked, placing her chin in her hands as she looked flirtatiously at Grayson. Grayson nodded along, acting out his part, but she could feel him tense beside her, could hear him swallow. Was he…. no, Lyra wasn’t that good at flirting.

“We’ll be back in a bit.” she said to O’Reilly, still holding Grayson’s hand in hers as they both got up from the table. O’Reilly just grinned.

“Take your time,” he told them, before downing another drink. Lyra giggled, dragging Grayson away to the hallway. As soon as they were out of the crowd, Lyra let go of his hand, and she could hear him let go of a breath.

“This is good. We can use this to our advantage!” Lyra told him. Grayson looked at her.

“You’re drunk. We can’t do anything anymore.” Grayson said, turning away from her. Lyra snorted.

“I’m not drunk. Well, I am a tad, but thats it. We can still land this client.” she said, stepping forward to him. Grayson turned around suddenly, but his movements were sloppier than usual. So he was also affected by the alcohol, Lyra thought.

“All we’ve done is convince a man we’re dating.” Grayson told her. Lyra shrugged.

“It’s working out for us. Who cares?” she said. There was silence from him, before suddenly, he stepped forward, the space between them diminishing quickly.

“Did you care, at all, about what you were lying about?” he asked. Lyra was taken aback. Did she care that she was lying about them dating? Maybe. Maybe she cared because she was upset that it was a lie. But Lyra couldn’t tell her boss that.

“Did you?” she retorted instead, raising her chin to look him in the eye. Grayson was still, the seconds passing by feeling like a millennium, before he suddenly raked a hand through his hair, breathing in quickly through his nose.

“Yes.” he said sharply. Lyra went still. So still. She hadn’t expected that answer out of him, and now the tension between them only grew, clogging her mind as she tried to think past it and the alcohol. But for some reason, she simply couldn’t. She was about to say something else, when Grayson spoke again.

“What did you call me back there?” he asked, almost as if checking he had heard her correctly. His eyes were sharp, but his pupils were wide, and his body only seemed to be getting closer to hers. Lyra could have lied. But she didn’t.

“Gray.” she repeated. Grayson’s eyes immediately squeezed shut, and he tensed completely, his hands clenching at his sides. When he opened his eyes again, all Lyra could do was stare. And stare. His eyes looked like they should be freezing cold, rigid and strict, but right now they seemed anything but. What were they doing?

Why did Lyra want this so bad?

She couldn’t feel her limbs move. They felt like liquid when she brought a hand up to his face while the other gripped his arm. Lyra wanted to blame the alcohol for her foolishness, but she couldn’t help but think of the classic saying:

Drunk words are sober thoughts.

So when Grayson dipped his head down, Lyra didn’t push him away.

“Tell me to stop,” Grayson said softly, his voice bordering on a plead. Lyra froze. Tell me to stop. Maybe she should. But oh God, right now she didn’t want to. Instead, Lyra met his eyes, her fierceness meeting his doubt head on. And then Grayson was pressing her back into the wall and bringing his lips to hers, kissing her with those lips of his, and Lyra could feel it all. The racing of her heart, the pattering of his beneath his wrist, everything. The kiss was slow at first, gentle, like he was toeing the line, before suddenly, Grayson was deepening it. Lyra gasped before she was kissing him back, each brush becoming more passionate and more careless as all she could think of was Grayson’s lips on her. And yet there was a sliver of doubt in the back of her mind.

Lyra was battling between desire and doubt, and right now, desire was winning.

But as Grayson began to trail kisses down her jaw, Lyra felt a thought of doubt pop into her mind, somehow there even through all the emotions she was currently feeling.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Lyra whispered, even as she kissed Grayson the second his lips came up from her jaw. He kissed her back, moving a hand from her waist to her neck.

“Why not?” He whispered back. Suddenly, Grayson planted another kiss on her lips—and the enormity of what they had just done hit Lyra like a bucket of ice cold water. Why not?

She was his assistant, was why not. She was just a Kane. And he was a Hawthorne. He was golden, and she was simply silver. The second in command. His. Assistant.

How many lines had they just crossed?

Grayson backed away from her immediately, and she could tell just by the look on his face that he had realized the same thing. All they did was look at each other, a silent understanding of what they had just done on their faces, when suddenly Grayson spoke.

“Lyra—“ he said, before Lyra cut him off.

“We need to get back to the table. Mr. O’Reilly is waiting for us.” Lyra said. She wasn’t one to be able to sober up, but right then and there, it felt like there was a cold deep in her bones, removing the sluggish and disoriented feeling from before and replacing it with a hyperawareness. Grayson went still. 7 beats passed by where he remained still, before he finally nodded, passing a hand through his hair and walking past Lyra to the table. Lyra watched him go, waiting only a moment to follow. And yet her mind wouldn’t stop racing, one thought rising above them all to claim her attention

You never should have kissed him, her brain whispered. Because now that you did, the temptation to do it again will always be in the back of your mind.

GRAYSON:

Shit, was all Grayson could think, shit shit shit what did he just do? Grayson was never one for crude language, but right now was different. Right now, he had just crossed a line that should never have been crossed.

Does it matter? A voice whispered in the back of his head. You enjoyed it, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t tempted to—

Grayson shut his mind off efficiently, running that thought into the wall before it could fully form. He was tipsy. His mind was a wild mess, so who could blame him for an even wilder thought? Thats all that was. His drunk mind speaking.

Or, not so drunk anymore. That realization from earlier was like a slap to the face, or a shot of espresso, and he was sobering up quickly.

But he could feel Lyra’s footsteps behind him. He could never really hear them very much, and he supposed that her past as a ballerina was a result of that, but still, every movement felt like a hum that flourished under Grayson’s skin.

Finally, they made it back to the table. Grayson took a seat, pretending to be as normal as possible. He could see, out of the corner of his eye, that Lyra was doing the same.

“Well, well, well,” O’Reilly snickered, his eyes twinkling. “now where were you two?” Grayson swallowed.

“We were just discussing something in the hall.” He stated, his voice as nonchalant as possible. O’Reilly snorted.

“Was that “something” seeing how far you can jam your tongue down her throat?” O’Reilly asked.

Grayson just stared at him, his face expressing the mix of confusion and embarrassment and shock that he was feeling.

He looked at Lyra, and saw that hers was doing the same.

A split second later, Grayson morphed his features into neutrality.

“We don’t know what you’re talking about.” Grayson said, his words almost bordering on a threat. O’Reilly just bursted out laughing.

“Oh, c’mon! I had to use the bathroom and saw you two in the hall. Real classy.” He teased. Grayson swallowed. But Lyra just grinned.

“Well, why should we hide it? You found out that we were in a relationship anyway!” she laughed. Grayson looked at her. She was continuing the whole “dating” lie again. And Grayson had to play along. Not just for the sake of the business deal, but for some part of him that couldn’t get over every time Lyra would squeeze his hand, or lean into him. The man laughed with Lyra, and just as he was about to say something, a waitress walked over and handed them more drinks. O’Reilly blinked.

“I forgot I ordered those,” he said. Then he turned to Lyra and Grayson with a smile. “Drink up, lovebirds. It’s on me.”

Lyra looked at the shots in front of her, and Grayson could feel the polite decline on the tip of his tongue, before he watched Lyra grab a glass and down it. He stared in confusion. What was she doing?

“We’re going to be staying a bit longer anyway.” she explained, her face wincing from the alcohol. O’Reilly hooted.

“Hell yeah! Hey miss, top us off!” O’Reilly shouted to the poor waitress that had the misfortune of serving a man like Shane O’Reilly.

Lyra grabbed another shot, downing it, and although Grayson didn’t say anything, his entire body was rigid and tense as he came to an ice cold realization:

She was trying to drink away the memory of this night.

Lyra was absolutely battered. O’Reilly wasn’t far behind. And Grayson was on his millionth no, thank you after declining a drink offer again and again.

“Another round?” Shane asked. Grayson didn’t give Lyra the option of saying yes or no.

“Actually, I think we should be leaving. But I’ll call you again, Mr. O’Reilly.” Grayson said. O’Reilly smiled.

“You know what? I like you guys. How about we plan a meeting with some other investors, and I promise you we can settle something there, something worth your while.” Mr. O’Reilly said. “But as of right now… I’m more than a bit tipsy.” Grayson cocked an eyebrow. That was an understatement. Lyra got up too, but she stumbled doing so, and Grayson’s hand instinctively went to steady her. Lyra saluted the man.

“Thank you very much, Shane O’Reilly.” she said, her words caught in a slur. Shane blinked at her, before bursting out laughing.

“Oh, she’s drunk alright.” he said, before taking a swig of his beer. Grayson turned his attention to Lyra, helping her walk away from the booth.

“C’mon, Lyra. I’m driving you home.” Grayson said softly. Lyra turned to him like he had offended her.

“No,” she scoffed, more than a little dramatically. “I’m taking the bus.”

She then proceeded to stomp away faster than Grayson had ever seen anyone stomp, and he started following her.

“Lyra!” he called out, trying to get her attention in the loud bar. No answer. She continued walking until she made it outdoors, before stepping out the door and immediately sitting against the wall. Grayson stopped in front of her, confused by her sudden stop.

“Lyra, are you okay?” he asked. She just made a hm sound in response. Grayson sighed, before taking her gently below the armpits and pulling her up to her feet. She looked disoriented, clearly drunk—but at the same time, glowing, like there was an air of freedom around her. She’s beautiful, Grayson thought.

“I’m fine. I’m taking the bus, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” she said slowly, trying to not mush her words together. Grayson’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m sure there are many things I can do to stop you.” he retorted. Lyra rolled her eyes.

“Try me.” she spat, the sudden venom in her voice surprising Grayson. Try me.

Well, she quite literally asked for it.

Grayson gave her a blank look, before promptly picking her up, and tossing her over his shoulder.

Lyra immediately started to struggle, kicking her feet and demanding she be “put go”, which wasn’t even’t grammatically correct, while Grayson walked calmly to his car. He unlocked the car, opened the passenger door, and gently slid Lyra off his shoulder, placing her inside.

She seemed to have given up, slouching in the seat, while Grayson walked over to the drivers side.

As soon as he got into the car, Grayson issued a statement: “You’re not going to work tomorrow.”

Lyra snorted. “Uh, yes I am.” she said, laughing as if it was all one big joke. Grayson turned to look at her.

“You’re not. And buckle up.” he said. Lyra sighed dramatically, before buckling up.

“I am. You’re not the boss of me.” Lyra argued. Grayson made a face, pulling out of the parking lot.

“You are not, and I quite literally am the boss of you because… I am your boss.” Grayson said slowly. Lyra paused. Then sighed again.

“Oh. Right.” she slurred, dragging the words. Grayson allowed a smile to touch his lips.

“Where do you live?” he asked. Lyra looked at him, and continued staring for about 5 beats. But the second Grayson turned to look at her, she turned away, looking embarrassed.

“If I’m staying home, I need to get my laptop. I forgot it at work.” she explained. Grayson raised a brow.

“Fine. The office and then you’re going home.” Grayson said.

“Fine.” Lyra said. Grayson nodded.

“Okay.” Grayson said. Lyra whipped her head towards him.

“Great.” she spat, her voice very suddenly threatening. Grayson glanced at her, unsure of what to say in response to her sudden outburst.

“Per…fect?” he said, dragging out the words in a confused manner. Lyra stared at him, her eyes boring into his, before turning her entire body to face the window and crossing her arms.

“Asshole.” Lyra muttered not so quietly. Grayson smiled. There we go.

The drive back to the office was quiet, with Lyra fiddling with her hands and counting her fingers and doing random things that Grayson struggled to keep up with, before Grayson pulled into a parking spot and got out the car. He walked over to Lyra’s door, and opened it up for her. Lyra grinned at Grayson, catching him off guard.

“Wow. Such a gentleman.” she remarked.

She then proceeded to stumble right out of the car and into Grayson.

Grayson caught her, steadying her quickly by the shoulders, but Lyra was still giggling.

“Let’s go.” she said, determination fierce in her tone.

She stumbled mid walk.

Grayson sighed, before wrapping an arm protectively around her waist. Warmth came off her body and embedded itself into his arms, and Grayson had to physically will away every thought that entered his head.

That was, until, Lyra turned to look at him.

Her eyes were wide, and there was a blush on her face that embellished her beauty in an intense manner. She placed a hand directly on his chest, and Grayson had to try not to stumble himself.

“Grayson?” Lyra asked, her voice soft. Grayson squeezed his eyes shut, looking away.

“We need to get your laptop. C’mon.” he managed, his voice rough and hoarse without even meaning to be. Lyra’s brows furrowed, before she was taking hesitant steps towards the door, Grayson’s strong arm allowing her not to fall.

Finally, they had made it up to his office. Grayson opened the door, and Lyra practically flung herself to his couch where her laptop bag was residing.

“Here!” she exclaimed, falling onto the couch. Grayson was immediately at her side.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Lyra blew out a breath.

“Yes, but…” she trailed off, her eyes closing. “I can’t move.” Grayson raised a brow.

“You can’t move?” he asked.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because your couch is too comfy.” she explained, immediately turning around to nuzzle into it. Grayson sighed, despite a smile working its way onto his face.

“Lyra…”

“Don’t make me get up Grayson. Please.” she said. Her voice was so soft, so gentle, that Grayson hated himself for what he did next. He sat her upright on the couch. She immediately protested, but Grayson spoke first.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but I need to get you some water and food first. I think I might have a protein bar somewhere, and I keep a water bottle under my desk.” Grayson elaborated, setting off to go find those things. He searched the drawers of his desk, rummaging through things all while Lyra stared at him with a look in her eyes that Grayson couldn’t quite place. Finally finding the protein bar, Grayson grabbed it, and then took the water bottle from under his desk and started walking back to Lyra. He handed her the water first.

“Drink, please.” he said. She did, nearly draining the water bottle in its entirety. Had she drunken any water while she was drinking all that alcohol? Grayson was irritated with himself for not reminding her. Then he handed her the protein bar, and Lyra struggled with the packaging for a moment, before ripping the bar open, taking a bite, and making a face.

“Ew.” she said, mid chew. Grayson smiled.

“Protein bars are not that great,” he admitted. Lyra studied him.

“Why do you eat them then?” She asked, poking his chest. Grayson blinked at her, caught off guard by the movement.

“Because I go to the gym.” Grayson said, getting back on track. Lyra snorted.

“No surprise there. All handsome guys go to the gym.” she said. Grayson froze. Did she even hear what she said? She looked utterly unaffected, biting and chewing without a care in the world. Grayson’s smile widened.

“You think I’m handsome?” he asked, coming closer without realizing. Lyra realized what she’d done, looking up with wide eyes.

“Uh, so what?” she stuttered. “I said you’re handsome. Biggg deal. We’re not in elementary.”

Grayson was still smiling; he knew that she was drunk, but she had been so casual about saying it that Grayson was sure it wasn’t a lie.

“Here,” he said, still smiling as he handed her the water bottle with some water still left in it. “Drink. Then when you’re sober you and I can talk about how handsome I am together.”

Lyra rolled her eyes, but drank all the water, tossing it and the wrapper at the trash can in the corner of the room.

The wrapper didn’t make it very far, and the bottle hit the wall and fell to the floor.

Grayson had to physically hold back a laugh. “Okay, firecracker. Let’s get going before you destroy my office.” Grayson stood up straighter, waiting for Lyra to get up—whereas Lyra seemed glued to the couch.

“I can’t.” she said. Grayson raised a brow.

“You can’t?” he asked. She gave him a look.

“I can’t go anywhere.”

“Why not?”

“My legs don’t want to listen anymore.”

Grayson couldn’t help but laugh then, breathy and quiet, and he saw how Lyra’s eyes softened. He was just about to speak when she interrupted her.

“I barely ever hear that.” Lyra said. Grayson, caught off guard for a moment, looked at her.

“Hear what?” he asked.

“Your laugh,” she replied. Then, as if suddenly shy, she ducked her head down. “It’s nice.”

Grayson froze. His heart was beginning to hammer in his chest, and his hands flexed at his sides. This girl—this surprising, bold, beautiful girl—was making him go crazy. Just when he thought she would give him a break, and just when Grayson thought he could take her home without any other words from her that would further undo him, she spoke.

“If I asked you to kiss me again,” she breathed out, sitting on her knees and dragging Grayson’s face close to hers with his tie. “Would you?

Grayson’s face became inexplicably hot. His breathing was becoming more ragged, and every thought in his head was combing over every word she had just spoken, repeating it over and over like a sickly sweet mantra. If I asked you to kiss me again, would you?

Yes, Grayson thought then. He would.

But not in this state.

“Maybe someday,” he finally whispered back, his voice hoarse. “I’ll kiss you when it’s something that you won’t regret. But not right now. Not when you can’t fully consent.” Grayson drew his face back, finally putting space between them. Lyra huffed out. Pondered for a minute. Finally nodded.

“Okay.” she said simply. Grayson nodded.

“Okay.” he repeated. Lyra stared at him. Then she smiled.

“Did you mean what you said earlier today,” she said, a mischievous smile on her face, “about liking my skirt?”

Grayson froze. He swore his brain rebooted as Lyra giggled at the look on his face.

“It’s a nice skirt. Now c’mon, we should get going now.” Grayson said in a low voice, taking Lyra’s computer bag and holding a hand out for Lyra to grab. Lyra looked at his hand and just shook his head.

“I told you, my legs won’t listen to me!” she explained again, exasperated. Grayson sighed.

“Okay. Stay still.” he told her. Then Grayson slung Lyra’s arm around his neck and shoulders, took out an arm, and lifted her up around the back of her knees, her rear resting against his arm. Lyra clutched onto him, her eyes wide, and Grayson used the other hand to pick the computer bag back up.

“How are you doing that?” she blurted out. Grayson glanced up at her, practically perched on his arm, and shrugged.

“Handsome guys like me go to the gym, remember?” he said, a smirk coating his lips. Lyra huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes, looking away.

“Yeah, yeah, I remember…” she mumbled, a red tint tinging her face. Grayson’s smile just broadened, and he started to walk out the door towards his car.

One elevator ride later and a Lyra who kept kicking her feet while Grayson was carrying her, and they were outside. Grayson gently slid her off his arm, and helped her get into the passenger seat. Then he handed her his phone.

“Here. Type your address in. It’s for the GPS.” He told her. Lyra did just that, handing his phone back to him once he got inside the car.

“Feeling better?” he asked once he had his seat belt buckled up. Lyra looked at him. Blinked.

Then she whipped her head around, opened the car door, and hurled outside.

Grayson winced, holding her hair as her head hung out of the car, waiting for her to be finished. Once she was, Grayson offered her a handkerchief to wipe her mouth, and fished a water bottle out of the back seat.

“You have too many water bottles lying around.” Lyra mumbled drowsily, drinking out of the bottle. Grayson’s lips twitch.

“I try to stay hydrated, but…” Grayson trailed off. But he’d forget. But work would be so busy that he would ignore his dry throat. But he’d gotten so used to not having enough time to remind himself to drink water over the years that even with Lyra and the workload being less heavy, he would still be dehydrated constantly.

“But you’re too busy. I’ve noticed.” Lyra finished for him. Grayson glanced at her as he pulled out of the parking lot, surprise etching his features. Lyra glanced back at him curiously.

“Why do you think I moved the water cooler next to your office?” she said. Grayson was momentarily shocked. That was her? He just thought that it was a happy miracle, so he wouldn’t have to give himself the excuse of not wanting to go and get water, or refill his pretty small water bottle whenever it would be empty before lunch.

“I didn’t know that was you.” he admitted. Lyra laughed.

“Yeah, I know.” she said, smirking. “You also didn’t notice when I called someone to fix the lock that you always struggle with, or when I submitted a request to have the pothole in your parking spot fixed so that your car doesn’t get splashed with dirty water every time it rains, and…” her eyes twinkled. “Every time you ask me to get you a second coffee after lunch, I make it decaf.”

Grayson was shocked. He hadn’t noticed any of this. Not the lock that mysteriously started working better, or the parking spot that Grayson assumed had just been finally fixed. And he had never noticed the switch in his coffee.

“So you’re why I’m still tired after lunch.” Grayson accused, although his eyes were soft. Lyra snorted.

“Are you still tired after lunch?” she asked. Grayson felt his cheeks heat up as he realized that he, in fact, wasn’t still tired after lunch anymore. The first few days of Lyra being around he had been, but after about a week and a half, he no longer was. He just assumed they’d replaced the coffee with a stronger kind after that point.

“Ha!” Lyra exclaimed, pointing at Grayson’s face with a smile on her own. “I was right. You no longer need 2 coffees a day.” Grayson smiled, turning to her and freezing suddenly. She was no longer just smiling. Now she was grinning. It lit up her face, her eyes seeming softer with a mischievous glint in them as well. If Grayson weren’t currently driving a car, he wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes away at all. But he was, so Graysons eyes had to dart back to the road, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“I guess you were right.” he said, his eyes unintentionally soft. Lyra’s eyes stayed on him for a pause, before she turned away.

“I always am.” she replied simply. Grayson huffed out a laugh, caught off guard. He checked his phone, which had been telling him directions throughout his and Lyra’s conversation, and saw how much time was left before they’d get there.

“We should be getting there in 5 minutes. You don’t live too far from the building.” Grayson said. Lyra nodded.

“I moved out of my parents house when I got this job. I guess I decided it’d be easier if I found a spot pretty close to the office.” Lyra said. At the mention of parents, Grayson couldn’t stop his mind from straying to her father. To her past.

“Lyra…” he said, trailing off as his voice suddenly got more serious. Lyra’s head turned towards him, and he could tell that even in her drunk state she knew that he was no longer being conversational. “We never really got the chance to talk about your father.”

At the mention of father, Lyra ducked her head, her hands beginning to fidget. “We don’t need to.” she said, her voice carrying an edge of determination.

“Lyra—“

“Please.” she said, her voice teetering on a desperate edge. Grayson looked at her, his eyes wide, but she just carried on. “My father has never left my mind ever since Tobias Hawthorne passed away. Ever since the inheritance. But I got a therapist, and I’ve tried to get over it, and—“ she laughed then, but he could see how her eyes began to shine with tears. “And I wouldn’t even admit this if I weren’t drunk right now! But I spent months looking for your number, trying to get even an ounce of sympathy or help from you, and that didn’t happen. And I can honestly only thank you for telling me to stop calling, because thats when I told my mom about remembering my father’s death, and thats when I got help. But maybe I just… maybe I just wanted closure more than anything. But that never really came, and I have to be okay with that.”

The silence that followed was heartbreaking. Grayson’s breaths began to become more heavy as he thought through her confession, feeling desperately pathetic and sorry for how he treated her, and how he pretended like it never happened. He should have talked to her about it sooner. Why was he such an idiot?

“I’m sorry.” Lyra whispered, her eyes wide as if she was surprised by her outburst herself. Grayson looked at her. Then he suddenly swerved, parking on the side of the road.

As soon as he did, Grayson turned to her, staring at her surprised eyes with serious ones of his own.

“Don’t apologize, Lyra. I never should have told you to stop calling. Especially because…” Grayson trailed off, the words forming a lodge in his throat. “Especially because I didn’t mean it. I wanted you to call again because I wanted you to get your closure and… and maybe I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Lyra went deathly still at that. Her eyes flickered to her lap, wide but still as if she were thinking through his words the best she could.

“Oh.” was all Lyra said. Grayson ran a hand through his hair.

“Oh.” he repeated, letting his head fall back to hit his headrest. Lyra continued being still, before she turned to him, a smile on her face.

“We’re good at confessing things.” Lyra said, smiling. Grayson looked at her. Really looked at her. You’re good, he wanted to say. I simply admit the safest possible thing I can.

Because if he were good at confessing… if he were good at confessing…

A phone call interrupted Grayson’s thoughts. He looked down at the caller, and saw Nash’s name.

Lyra’s hand immediately went to answer the call, and Grayson snatched the phone away before she could grace both Nash and him any further with her unpredictability.

“Hello?” Grayson said.

“You still up?” Nash asked. Grayson raised a brow.

“Clearly. What is it?” Grayson asked.

“Jamie ain’t home. Xander is off to go visit Maxine in who-knows-where. I’m doing my daily rounds to make sure y’all ain’t dead.” Nash drawled. Grayson snorted.

“No, I’m not dead, but thank you for verifying.” Grayson replied.

“Where are you then?”

Grayson glanced to where Lyra was sitting, her feet up as her eyes darted away, pretending she hadn’t been staring and trying to listen to the phone call.

“Lyra and I met with Shane O’Reilly to negotiate over drinks. Lyra got a little…” Grayson chose his words carefully, so as to not make the Lyra who was currently narrowing her eyes at Grayson even more aggravated. “tipsy.”

“She’s absolutely hammered and you had to take her home?”

“Yup.”

“Hm.”

Grayson frowned.

“What does that mean?”

“That means ‘hm’. What else would hm mean?”

“No, that wasn’t just a hm. That seemed like you’re thinking of saying something but decided against saying it.”

“I did.” the cowboy replied simply. Grayson frowned.

“Well, out with it then.”

Nash was silent for a beat, then two, before speaking.

“You’re getting awfully attached to that assistant of yours.” Grayson’s eyes narrowed. He looked at Lyra who was looking curiously at him, trying to hear what was going on in the call. Grayson brought the phone away from his ear.

“Excuse me a moment, Lyra.” he said. Then Grayson got out of the car, closing the door and pressing the phone to his ear again.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Grayson shot back. Nash snorted.

“I simply suggested that you were relying on your assistant while you were, apparently, right next to her, and you decided to completely change your location just so she wouldn’t overhear you, and you ask me “what’s that supposed to mean”?” Nash laughed. Then he paused. “Where are you anyway?”

“Side of the road. Lyra’s in the car with me.” Grayson said. He could practically hear Nash’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Why are you two on the side of the road?”

Grayson’s cheeks heated up once he realized what Nash was trying to hint to.

“You have a way with jumping to conclusions, Nash. And for the record, she had to throw up.” That was a lie, but Grayson couldn’t tell Nash the real reason he had parked on the side of the road. Because if he told Nash Hawthorne that he pulled off the road to have a heart to heart with his assistant, he’d never hear the end of it. “Besides, nothing can happen. She’s my assistant, and most importantly, she’s drunk.”

“I know that,” Nash said, his voice suddenly serious. “I know you know better than that. But I also know that you talk about her at home. And you let her boss you around. And you take her out to cafes in your spare time. That doesn’t seem like normal boss and assistant behaviour.”

Grayson’s eyes narrowed. “I took her to a cafe once to celebrate a successful day in the office. Once. And how did you find out about that anyway?” he accused. Nash snorted.

“You’re Grayson Hawthorne. Somebody saw you sitting across from a girl at a cafe and posted it online. Alisa squashed it, but we all still saw it.” Nash said. Grayson sighed.

“That sounds about right.”

“Grayson… just be careful. You seem to be having a serious attachment to this girl. But you have to understand that things get complicated when it’s a boss and someone who works for them. It gets harder career wise, not just for you, but also for her.” Nash’s voice hardens. “What do you think people would say when they see a girl get hired for a job and then shortly after start dating the person who hired her?”

Grayson’s face tightened. He’d known that he could never even entertain a possibility of Lyra and him being together, but he’d never really considered… that.

“I know. I know it can’t happen, and believe me, it won’t. Lyra and I are just people who work together. We’re friends at most. That’s all.” Grayson assured him. But then he remembered her lips on hers, hands that wove in his hair, a racing heart beat that he heard pressed against his own.

What were Lyra and him now? They sure as hell weren’t dating. But they also weren’t simply boss and assistant. Because a boss shouldn’t know what his assistants lips taste like, and an assistant shouldn’t know what her boss’ arms feel like wrapped around her.

It was all wrong, thinking about it now. But didn’t it feel so right in the moment?

Maybe it was just a thing. Maybe it was just casual. But nothing about this night felt casual to him.

“Mhm. I’ll take your word for it.” Nash said. Then he yawned. “Alright, drop her off then get home safe little brother. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Grayson sighed, rubbing a hand over the side of his face as his eyes moved to the girl sitting in the passenger seat of his car, who captivated him in ways he could never explain. “Yeah. See you in a bit.”

Then Grayson hung up, and got back in the car.

“What did Nash say?” Lyra immediately ask. Grayson glanced, his face amused as he looked at her. Lyra had detective tendencies when she was drunk.

“Aren’t you curious?” he said, pulling back onto the road. Lyra sighed, letting her feet fall back to the floor.

“That’s Grayson code for “I’m not telling you”. Lyra said with a frown. Grayson huffed out a laugh.

“You’re correct.” he agreed.

Finally, Grayson pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex, helping Lyra out of the car.

“I’ll walk you to your apartment.” Grayson immediately offered. Lyra gave him a look.

“I’m basically already home. It’s fine.” Lyra refused, shaking her head. Grayson gave her a look in return.

“Lyra, you are drunk, and it is nearing 1 AM. There is absolutely no way that I am letting you walk alone to your apartment.”

“It’s on the first floor.”

“Still.”

“No.”

“Lyra, I have carried you twice tonight, and I will not hesitate to do it a third time.”

“Fine.” Lyra finally relented, realizing that Grayson was not, in fact, bluffing. They got inside, Grayson followed Lyra’s footsteps to her place.

Floor 1, apartment 8 was where Lyra resided. She fumbled with the keys yet again, except this time when Lyra opened the door, she turned around to face Grayson.

“Thank you.” she blurted out. Grayson raised a brow, surprised, but Lyra just continued. “I’m not good at asking for help. Or accepting help. Or doing anything that involves getting help from literally anybody. But despite that, you still helped me out a lot tonight, so… thank you.”

She looked suddenly shy then, looking away with reddened cheeks. Grayson just stood there himself, before speaking.

“I didn’t expect that from you. Although you have proven to be quite… surprising.” Grayson said, the barest smile on his lips. Lyra glanced back at him.

“That I am.” Lyra replied, looking quite pleased with herself. Grayson’s lips lifted even more. Then Lyra took a step closer, her proximity making Grayson’s heart begin to race.

“What I asked you earlier,” Lyra said, her voice quieter now, “about you kissing me again if I’d ask…”

Grayson’s heart hammered in his chest. Lyra was looking up at him now, her eyes golden under the light, as Grayson tried to sort through his thoughts. Breathe. Relax. Try his best to compute under the gaze of beauty reincarnate. Then he spoke.

“Lyra,” he reasoned, his voice hoarser than he thought it’d be. “You’re drunk. I’m not doing anything you might regret in the morning.”

Lyra gave him the slightest pout, stepping forward even more. “That’s what you said at the office.”

If she even stepped forward an inch, their chests would be brushing. Lyra’s head was tilted up at him, her eyes sparkling yet curious, as she gazed at Grayson. Grayson had to squeeze his eyes shut to remember how to speak. He couldn’t otherwise.

Not when she was looking at him like that.

Finally, he reopened his eyes, giving himself the privilege of brushing a strand behind her ear. “Lyra, no. And that’s final. Now go rest up, and I’ll call you in the morning to see how you are.” Grayson finally said. Lyra relented, puffing out air through her lips, before glancing up at Grayson mischievously when he spoke his last couple words.

“A call? You won’t come and visit?” Lyra asked. Grayson was taken aback. Not just from the way she was fluttering her eyelashes at him, but also from her sheer boldness.

“Don’t push your luck.” Grayson said, trying to seem amused whereas his voice came out low. Lyra was pushing him too far for him to be amused.

She sighed, holding her peacoat jacket in one hand and her laptop bag in the other. Then all annoyance faded from her face as she looked at him with that same look from earlier. The one that captivated him.

“Goodnight, Grayson.” Lyra whispered. Grayson stared for a moment, breathing in and out through his nose, before speaking himself.

“Goodnight, Lyra.” he said. Lyra smiled, the look in her eyes gentle for a fleeting moment, before she turned around and shut the door behind her, giving Grayson one last glance back before she did. Grayson stood there, trying to compose himself, before turning and making his way out the building.

What were Lyra and him now? Grayson was unsure. But he knew, whatever it was that they were, it was casual. It had to be.

Because if it wasn’t, then Grayson was seriously screwed.

————————————————————————

[goodluckclove]

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa finalllyyyyyyyy

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

MY FINAL ASSIGNMENT OF JADE'S SHORT COMIC IS FINALLY FINISHED!!

About to post them in a minute 👀🫡

[arhvste]

HE’S HERE !!

[holmesapothecary]

Sweater Sunday (but on a Wednesday): David Rose’s Season 6 Sweaters with Designer

Hi, I’m a nerd and I put together a massive spreadsheet of all of David’s clothes that were in the VSP Consignment Sale and then from there, added in all his other sweaters. So I’ve been sharing each season’s sweaters (and a few other pieces). And now we have all of Season 6! 

You can find Season 1 here

You can find Season 2 here

You can find Season 3 here

You can find Season 4 here

You can find Season 5 here

Season 6 Sweaters under the cut (6.14 spoilers included)

(Links on the sweaters if they were ID-ed elsewhere from VSP or me)

Smoke Signals

Alexander McQueen Black Mohair Distressed Sweater and McQ Pleated Wide Culottes. We all know my feelings on these culottes by now.

The Incident

Bianca Chandon Lover T-shirt and IKEA Duvet

Random Identities Beige Mohair Dotted Hoodie and Rick Owens Cargo Joggers

Comme des Garçons PLAY Striped Long Sleeve Tee and Brookes Brothers White Pajama bottoms 

The Job Interview

New York Times x sacai “Truth” Hoodie and Rick Owens Black Cargo Joggers

Boohoo Man Zebra Print Oversized Sweater

Blue Button Down with Levi 501® Original Fit Stretch Men's Jeans

Maid of Honour

Versus Versace Black Chainmail Front Sweater with Dries Van Noten Military Skirt-Overlay Trousers

The Premiere

Soulland Beware Sweatshirt 

Rick Owens Asymmetric Contrast Panel Sweater with zipper detail

Dsquared2 Black sweater with gray sequences and leather shoulders and Rick Owens Moto Leather Pants 

The Wingman

Stella McCartney Camo Sweater with Rick Owens Draped Joggers

Acne Studios Leather Moto Jacket, Alexander Wang x Lang Crawford Scribble Text Graphic Tee, and Rick Owens Moto Leather Pants

Moira Rosé

Rick Owens Gray detachable snap sweater and Black Cargo Joggers (yes, he wears these A LOT in S6)

Mauna Kea Dream On tie-dye sweater

The Presidential Suite

Givenchy Black Sweater with White Star and Bars

Dries Van Noten Metallic sparkle crewneck with Jill Sander Black Pants with White Piping

Rebound

Givenchy Tattoo Print Sweater with Rick Owens Grey Draped Joggers

Kenzo Eye Sweater

Neil Barrett Black, White, Red Neoprene Sweater

Sunrise, Sunset

Dsquared2 Icon Print Sweatshirt with Rick Owens Grey Draped Joggers and Adidas x Rick Owens Tech Runners

The Bachelor Party

Bianca Chandon Lover Hoodie with Red Sequins

“I’m Stupid” Tee (custom) with Rick Owens Stiched Long-sleeved Tee and PartyCity “Bride to Be” Tiara 

The Pitch

Amiri Snake Sweater with Rick Owens Raw Denim Asymmetric Cargo Skirt

Start Spreading the News

Dries Van Noten Hand Sweatshirt

Off White Hands of Fire Sweatshirt 

Happy Ending 

Black and White Striped Sweater with Red Cuffs

Valentino Love Sweater (Yay, @wild-aloof-rebel​ for finding this!!!!!) 

Thom Browne Grossgrain Tipping Tuxedo with Kilt (Fun Fact: Odell Beckham Jr. wore a sleeveless version of this to the Met Gala) 

Bonus: Season 6 Promo Shoot 

Burberry Monogram Jacquard English fit suit with Saint Laurent Jonas Lace Up Boots

[not-mandip]

Me, waiting for the melanie martinez movie to premiere

[dirtycar-remade]

I'M HOME