TW: Forced proximity///Lowkey maybe forbidden ?//G!p Billie//Oral (B & R receiving)//Fingering//Penetration
I’ve been working for a new company for about three months now. It’s a behavioral health company and I work on the backend of things. When our clinicians and staff have issues with their computer or software, they submit a ticket, and we jump in and help. It’s an awesome company. We offer therapy, substance abuse therapy and DUI classes for court, housing assistance, and have our own crisis center. Being apart of a company that supports and advocates for mental health is really wonderful. It makes me feel like I’m able to give back and that’s a very gratifying feeling.
We have several locations in town and our department is primarily based out of one location. In our office here, there’s me, this guy Jack, Alex, and Billie. Jack is your typical I.T. guy, nerdy, full of random facts, and very professional. Alex is the veteran of our department, she’s quiet at first, then she’s goofy, extremely knowledgeable, and she’s our go-to for questions. Billie is definitely the personality hire. She’s loud, outspoken, filled with ideas, and she breezes through the job. Not that she doesn’t do a good job by any means, she’s just so casual about work, you’d think she never thinks twice about what she needs to do.
I’ve caught onto our system quick and have been in a good routine. I’m very quiet when I start a new job, it takes me a while to open up. My main focus when I begin a new job is to learn the job first, and make friends later. I’m naturally a reserved person. I chat with the team here and there, but it’s mostly small talk.
Jessica is our boss. She’s kind of intimidating. She knows her stuff, has high expectations, and is very direct about what she wants.
Today she called me into her office and I internally panicked, immediately trying to figure out what I messed up.
When I knocked on her door and stepped inside, Billie was sitting in one of the chairs in front of Jessica’s desk.
They both warmly greet me, but I genuinely have no idea what is going on.
“Y/N, please, take a seat.”
I sit and bite the inside of my cheek.
“So, you’re probably wondering why you’re here. As you both know, we’re opening a new facility up north. They would like us to go up there and train their employees, and set up their system,” says Jessica.
“Okay..” I wait for her to continue.
“I would like both of you to come with me at the end of the month to do that. We’ll drive up together, the company got us an AirBNB, and we’ll be there for a week.”
She smiles, “yes you, y/n. You’ve caught onto our system with ease and I think being that you’re the newest to the team, you’ll be able to determine what in our training is beneficial, and what can be tweaked. You have the most fresh pair of eyes and I believe you will be able to show the new employees the tricks that have helped you succeed so quickly.”
She turns to Billie, “and you. You are the most sociable and outgoing in our department. You are the calmest person I’ve ever met in a crisis, and I know you’ll handle training a brand new team with ease. The questions and mishaps won’t stress you, and our new employees need to see that.”
“You trust me enough to train a whole new team? Aren’t you afraid I’ll corrupt them?” Billie asks, with a sly smile.
Jessica laughs and shakes her head, “I trust that you’ll help them acclimate in a comfortable environment. You can worry about corruption later.”
“Sounds great, I’m in,” she says.
I smile politely, “this is a wonderful opportunity, thank you.”
I don’t look over, but I can feel Billie’s eyes on me.
“Perfect, I’m glad you guys are on board. I’ll email you with details.”
We both depart from her office and retreat to our own offices.
I’ve been struck with nerves since I set foot in that office.
I’m intimidated by the training, but I’m more intimidated about being on a week long trip with Billie.
I don’t not like Billie. It’s quite the opposite. Maybe a little too much. She naturally has a flirty personality and to say she’s stunning, is an understatement.
She has jet black hair, the most dreamy blue eyes I’ve ever seen, beautiful full lips, a raspy voice, and her body is incredible.
She makes me uneasy. Mostly, because I don’t know how to act around her. I’m twice as shy around her, because I don’t want her to know I have a little crush on her. I try to make it a point to not date coworkers.
The next few weeks fly by, but my nerves never fully settle. Jessica emailed us the plans, what exactly the new team needs training on (which is everything, by the way), a rough idea of the itinerary, and most importantly, what food we’d like for the house. We’ll be gone from Sunday-Sunday and the new clinic is five hours away.
Two nights before the trip, I have a list.
One on my phone, one on a sticky note on my desk, and one written in a small notebook I keep for work.
I check things off carefully…and then I check them again.
Focusing on the “logistics” is easier than thinking about the other thing.
The other thing being that I’m about to spend an entire week with Billie. A five hour car ride. The same worksite. The same house. Constant proximity.
My brain tries not to linger on that. It lingers anyway.
That night, I fold my clothes on my bed, when I catch myself thinking, what if she talks the whole drive?
The thought makes me pause. Not because I mind talking.
But because Billie has this way of talking to people that makes it feel like she’s paying attention in a way that’s hard to ignore.
Direct eye contact. Easy smiles. Little teasing comments. It makes people open up without meaning to.
I’ve noticed that at work. I’ve also noticed that sometimes, Billie does it with me.
Which is…nerve wracking. Not bad. Just unsettling.
The night before the trip, I repack my bag twice.
The second time, I tell myself it’s because I forgot to pack a sweater.
But I also spend an unreasonable amount of time standing in front of my closet, trying to decide what counts as “normal lounge clothes that don’t look unprofessional.”
I pull one shirt off the hanger.
I pull another one out. This is ridiculous, I tell myself.
No one cares what I wear. Especially not Billie.
That thought lands weirdly.
I push the thought away and instead fold my shirts and pack my suitcase.
The morning of the trip I arrive early. Much earlier than I needed to. It’s Sunday, so the clinic parking lot is empty, aside from security.
I sit in my car for a minute before getting out, checking my bag one more time even though I already know everything is in it.
My brain runs through the week ahead like a schedule.
Training, equipment setup, presentations, long workdays.
What I don’t think about-what I very deliberately avoid thinking about-is the downtime.
Car rides, dinners, what happens after the workday ends.
Because that’s where Billie tends to take up space. With talking, teasing, watching people with that amused, observant look.
I exhale slowly and remind myself, it’s just a week.
I’ve worked with her before. It’s never been a problem.
Jessica’s car pulls into the parking lot and she’s already organized. She’s giving clipboard energy; travel itinerary printed and snacks for the road.
Billie arrives last, sunglasses on, acting like 7 a.m. is a personal offense.
I stand there awkwardly by my bag, unsure of where to put myself.
Billie clocks me immediately.
Not in a loud, obvious way, just a small pause. A curious look.
“Morning,” she says with an easy smile.
I return it, smaller. “Morning.”
Jessica starts directing like she’s a traffic controller.
“Okay, bags in the trunk. We want to be on the road in five.”
Seats get negotiated without anyone really saying it out loud. Jessica drives, Billie claims shotgun, and I end up in the back.
Which means Billie keeps turning around to talk to me.
I don’t clock it as a “problem” at first. I notice Demi, sure. But I notice everyone, that’s kind of my thing. People are interesting. Reactions are interesting. The way someone smiles when they’re caught off guard, or how they deflect compliments, or how long it takes before they relax around me. It’s a game I’m very good at.
So when I see Demi in the parking lot, I immediately register it. She’s been waiting a while, she probably got here early. She’s quiet, observant, and hard to read. Interesting. I want to see if I can break through a little on this drive.
At first it’s polite work talk.
Jessica goes over the training schedule, “this afternoon we’ll help them set up their equipment and show them common hiccups that come with launching the platform. Monday, we’ll walk them through the platform and protocols. Tuesday, we start hands-on training.”
Billie half listens and half watches me in the rearview mirror.
Eventually she twists in her seat.
“So,” she says casually. “Five hours in a car together. We should probably establish some road trip rules.”
Jessica sighs, “please don’t.”
“Rule one,” Billie continues anyway, “driver picks the music. Passengers can complain, but only respectfully.”
I let out a small laugh that I try to hide.
Billie notices immediately.
“Ah,” she says, pointing. “You laughed. You’re on my side.”
I feel the blush creeping over my cheeks.
At first it’s Jessica’s safe playlist, classic radio stuff.
Billie eventually steals the phone.
“Oh my god, we cannot do five hours of this.”
“You absolutely can,” Jessica says.
Billie scrolls. “What do you listen to?” she asks me over her shoulder.
The question caught me by surprise for some reason.
“Um…a little bit of everything.”
Billie persists, “artist. Right now. Go.”
After a pause, I say “Radiohead.”
The next song that plays makes me visibly panic, because everyone now knows my taste.
But Billie starts singing along dramatically, purposely terrible.
And suddenly, without meaning to, I’m laughing harder.
We stop for gas and snacks. Jessica goes inside for coffee, leaving Billie leaning against the car, while I awkwardly try to decide whether to stay outside, or follow.
“You don’t have to hide from me,” Billie says lightly.
I shrug, “still getting used to everything.”
Billie softens a little. “Well…for what it’s worth, you’re doing really good.”
I’m genuinely surprised, “you think so?”
“Yeah,” Billie says. “And I’m very good at judging people.”
“Is that your official qualification?”
“Among others,” she says with the smallest smirk.
Jessica comes back before the conversation can get deeper.
Back in the car, Billie starts asking small questions.
“Where’d you move from?” “How long have you been in the field?” “Do you always sit this quietly in cars?”
I answer a little easily now and sometimes Jessica joins in. Sometimes Billie throws in playful commentary.
When I admit I’ve never taken a road trip like this before, Billie turns around dramatically.
“We’re fixing that this week.”
By the last hour, the vibe is much looser.
We’re all tired, a little delirious. I’ve talked more than I expected. Billie has successfully made me laugh multiple times.
We finally pull into the driveway of the Airbnb and Jessica stretches and says, “alright. Settle in, we’ll leave for the clinic in two hours.”
She grabs her bags and heads inside.
“Five hours,” Billie says.
I smile a little, “barely.”
Billie grins, “oh good. That means the rest of the week will be interesting.
What the hell does that mean?
About thirty minutes into the drive, I realized something is different. Not with the situation, but with…me.
I kept looking in the rearview mirror. Not consciously at first. Just…checking. Y/n is sitting in the back, looking at the window, occasionally smiling at something Jessica says. She didn’t talk much. But when she does, it’s thoughtful. Direct. Not filler conversation.
I kept finding myself turning around more than usual. Asking questions, pulling her into conversations. At one point I made a joke just to see if she’d laugh.
It was small, quick -but real. For some reason, something about that lands. Okay, so. This one’s harder to get. Which, if I’m being honest, makes me want to try a little more.
We grab our bags and follow behind Jessica. The place is nice than I expected. An open living room and kitchen, soft yellow lights.
But the sleeping arrangements are….unfortunate to say the least.
Jessica claims the master, already dragging her suitcase down the hall.
Which leaves the second room.
Billie leans against the doorway, glancing inside.
“Well,” she says lightly. “Guess we’re roommates.”
I freeze for a fraction of a second, before nodding. “Yeah.”
“Don’t worry,” Billie adds. “I’m a very respectful roommate.”
I raise an eyebrow, “that sounds like something someone says right before they’re a terrible roommate.”
“Billie grins, “wow. You’re onto me already.”
We drop our bags in the room.
I move efficiently, almost too efficiently. Unpacking toiletries, folding clothes, creating a small orderly space around my bed.
She flops backward onto her mattress dramatically.
“Five hours in a car should legally count as a full workday.”
I smile faintly while arranging my things.
“You were the one who kept talking the whole time.”
“Someone had to keep the morale up.”
I glance at her, “you mean annoy everyone.”
“Exactly,” she grins, clearly proud.
I wisp around the room; hanging up my clothes, perfectly lining up my shoe selection, tucking my house clothes into the dresser.
I’m really just trying to look busy, because I’m too nervous to settle around Billie. She’s scrolling on her phone, but her eyes wander to me every so often, and I pretend not to notice.
After I run out of things to organize, I tell her, “I’m gonna go get some air.”
Once I step onto the porch, it feels like I can breathe again. I find solace in sitting alone on the porch. I scroll through my phone, hoping I can get lost in Tiktok.
It works, until I hear the door open.
“Hey, I made a salad if you want to eat before we head to the office,” says Jessica.
“Thank you,” I get up to follow her back inside.
Billie’s sitting at the counter, already eating.
We all make small talk and it doesn’t feel awkward. Maybe this won’t be so bad.
“Okay, ladies. Get cleaned up, or whatever you need to do. We’ll head out in about fifteen.”
“Do we need to wear work attire?” I ask.
Jessica shakes her head, “no, this is just an informal set up. Just throw on jeans and a shirt, or something.”
“Thank god,” Billie says.
“Not to burst your bubble, but work attire for the rest of the week.”
Billie groans and Jessica laughs.
We arrive shortly after lunch.
The new clinic still has that “half finished” feeling. Boxes are stacked against the walls, rolling chairs not fully assembled, cords and monitors waiting to be connected.
A few members of the new team are already there, looking slightly overwhelmed.
Jessica claps her hands once they walk in.
“Perfect timing,” she says. “We’re setting up equipment before training starts tomorrow.”
She starts assigning things immediately.
“You two take the small training room stations.”
Billie gives a lazy salute, “yes, boss.”
I grab a tablet and a box of cables and we head down the hall together.
The training room is full of unopened boxes.
Billie drops her bag by the counter and surveys the mess.
“Well,” she says. “This is chaotic.”
Billie grabs a box cutter and slices through the tape on the nearest package.
“Alright. Let’s see what we’ve got.”
We unpack monitors, set up stands, plug in cables.
I focus on the equipment in front of me. Because focusing on the equipment is very important right now.
What I’m not focusing on is the fact that Billie is standing about two feet away.
Or the way she hums quietly while working.
Or how easily she moves around the room, leaning against counters and stepping around boxes like she’s completely comfortable anywhere.
I keep my attention on the tablet I’m configuring.
“Hey,” Billie’s voice pulls me out of it.
Billie holds up two identical cords, “which one of these is the ethernet cable again?”
I walk over automatically.
Billie grins, “good. I was about to guess.”
“You shouldn’t guess with networking equipment.”
“See, that’s why I keep you around.”
I freeze for a half second.
That sounded like flirting.
I decide not to react. “Hand it here,” I say, reaching for the cable.
Our fingers brush briefly as Billie passes it to me.
I immediately look down at the cable like it’s extremely complicated.
I’m just suddenly very aware of the interaction.
Billie doesn’t seem bothered at all. She just leans back against the counter and watches me connect the cable.
“You’re very focused,” she says.
I keep working, “I’m setting up the system.”
I feel warmth creeping up the back of my neck.
A few minutes later Billie climbs onto a stool to mount a monitor bracket.
“Hold this steady,” she says, handing me the base.
I grip it while Billie reaches up to tighten the screws.
“You’re definitely leaning.”
Billie glances down at me. Our positioning makes my heart speed up a touch.
I immediately regret saying anything. “No. I just don’t want the monitor to fall.”
When the monitor is finally mounted, Billie hops down.
We’re suddenly standing closer than before. I step back almost instantly.
“Okay,” I pick up the tablet again. “Let’s test the system.”
Billie watches me for a second.
“You’re doing that thing.”
“That thing where you suddenly get very busy.”
Billie laughs quietly, “sure.”
We’re in another training room, the last one to set up. Billie’s standing on the stool again, trying to adjust the monitor mount, muttering under her breath.
“This thing is-okay, who designed this?”
I hold the instruction sheet, scanning it.
“Here,” I say, stepping closer.
I reach up to adjust the bracket, one hand steadying the edge of the monitor while the other fixes the piece Billie missed.
“You’re definitely moving.”
“I’m definitely balancing,” she quips back.
I huff a quiet laugh, but stay still.
I lean in a little more, focused, fixing the alignment.
For a second, everything is just the task.
I pause. Just for a moment. But Billie, being Billie, notices immediately.
I don’t answer right away, but I’m looking at her. Not in a flustered way, just in a quiet observant way.
I blink, realizing I just got caught staring.
Then without thinking too much about it-”you lean in when you’re concentrating.”
Billie slightly frowns, “I…what?”
I gesture vaguely, “Like-just a little. You don’t even notice you’re doing it.”
I adjust the bracket again, but continue on, “you did it earlier with the cables too.”
Billie lets out a quiet, disbelieving laugh.
“You’ve been tracking my posture all day?”
“That’s a little concerning.”
My mouth curves slightly. “It’s efficient.”
Billie shakes her head, but there’s a smile there now.
“Okay, but why is that distracting?”
And something I can’t name shifts.
Because I realize what I’m saying. And I probably shouldn’t say it.
But I do anyway, “it makes you closer than you think you are.”
Billie blinks, “...closer?”
I nod once, like that explains everything.
There’s a beat. Then Billie slowly steps down off the stool. Now we’re standing at (almost) eye level, with only a few inches between us.
“Like this?” Billie whispers.
I immediately realize my mistake.
My eyes flick up to meet hers-and. Now we’re close. Like actually close.
Not just observationally, but physically.
“Yes,” I say, a little too quickly.
Billie tilts her head slightly, studying me.
And for the first time. She doesn’t have a joke ready.
I look away, flustered now. “I just meant-during work-it can-”
“Distract you?” Billie finishes.
I exhale, “...sometimes.”
Billie smiles slowly, like she knows that that, was not accidental.
For the rest of the afternoon we move from room to room setting up equipment.
Y/N answers technical questions and I chat easily with the new staff, cracking jokes and keeping the mood light.
But every time we cross paths in a hallway or reach for the same box…
That strange, heightened awareness.
Not uncomfortable. Just…impossible to ignore.
At one point she’s crouched down connecting cables under a desk when I lean down beside her.
Our faces are suddenly closer than expected. “Uh-yeah.”
I hand it to her, “here.”
She looks back at the cables very quickly, trying to avoid eye contact.
By the time we finish for the day, the clinic looks almost ready for training.
Jessica checks the last station.
“Good work. Everything’s ready for tomorrow.”
She straightens from the desk she’s been working at.
Across the room, I catch her eye for a second. Just long enough to give her a small, amused look.
Like I’ve noticed something she hasn’t said out loud. Because I have.
Y/n immediately looks back down at the tablet in her hands. Which only makes me smile a little more.
The ride back to the house is fine. We go over the game plan for the next day and go over what time we need to leave. For dinner, we all agreed we’d just eat food at the Airbnb, all of us are beat from the long day.
When we get back, we all change. It’s extremely weird to be around my boss with both of us in lounge clothes.
Jessica and I make a sandwich and chips. Once Billie joins us, I offer her one.
“Nah, I’m good. I have my eye on something in there,” she glances toward the cabinet.
We settle at the table and I try not to pay attention to what Billie’s doing. I strike up conversation with Jessica about her dogs.
The chair caddy corner from me pulls out and she sets down a bowl.
I raise a brow, “cereal?”
“You have an entire fridge stocked and you had your eye on cereal??” I ask.
Jessica laughs, “why does that not surprise me?”
Billie shrugs, “because you know I have a child-like wonder and spirit.”
“Mhm, that’s one word for it,” Jessica says as she gets up.
“Well, I’m exhausted from being a chauffeur and bossing you guys around all day, so I’m gonna head to bed.”
“You must be exhausted every day then,” says Billie.
Jessica laughs and rolls her eyes, “good night.”
We both tell her good night. And that leaves just us.
I get up to grab a glass from the cabinet and Billie joins shortly after, refilling her bowl.
I say, “you’re gonna regret that tomorrow.”
“Future me can handle it.”
“You’re very organized,” she says casually.
“You fold everything. Put things back exactly where they go.”
“Not in this house it’s not.”
I fill my glass at the sink.
We both stand here quietly for a moment.
Billie gestures with her spoon, “try it.”
“The cereal. It’s elite.”
“I’m not eating cereal at ten at night.”
I roll my eyes but step closer anyway. “Fine. One bite.”
Billie holds the bowl out between us.
I reach for the spoon at the same time Billie shifts her grip.
Our hands meet. Our fingers brush first.
Then our hands actually settle against each other around the spoon handle.
It lasts maybe one second. Maybe two.
But neither of us pull away immediately.
My eyes flick up to hers and then I suddenly pull my hand back.
“Sorry,” my voice quieter than usual.
Billie clears her throat, trying to pretend she didn’t just feel that.
She hands me the spoon again, more carefully this time.
I take a quick bite and immediately wince.
Billie laughs, “blasphemy.”
I set the spoon back in the bowl, but this time our hands don’t touch. And somehow that feels more noticeable.
I turn back towards the sink, finishing my water.
I can feel Billie watching me.
“You’re blushing,” she says lightly.
I nearly choke on my water.
“Mmm, you absolutely are.”
I set the glass down quickly and walk towards the hallway.
Billie calls out after me, “you barely tried the cereal.”
I’ve already decided I like talking to her. Not in a big, dramatic way. Just…enough to keep it going. So I do what I always do. Tease, make light, easy comments. Nothing too obvious, just testing. I don’t think very hard about any of it, because this is normal for me. This is how I interact with people I like. Friendly, a little flirty, low stakes.
Y/n doesn’t react like most people. She doesn’t flirt back, but she doesn’t shut it down either.
She just…I don’t know. Absorbs it? Thinks about it? Sometimes it looks like she’s trying to figure it out and that’s new.
Things kind of start to shift. It happens in small moments. In the kitchen during lunch. The way y/n pauses before answering questions, like she’s choosing her words carefully. The way she laughs-like she doesn’t expect to. The way she looks at me. It’s not constant, but it’s direct. Like she’s actually paying attention and isn’t just trying to get in my pants. I caught it once, and held the eye contact for a second longer t
than necessary. Then y/n looked away first. Huh.
By the time we started setting up equipment, I’m fully aware of one thing; I’ve paid more attention to y/n more than I planned to.
I told myself it’s because we’re working together, that makes sense. But I also notice things I don’t normally care about. The way she focuses. How she explains things clearly without over-talking. How she gets a little flustered when our hands brush. That one in particular was…intriguing.
So I started testing it. Not aggressively, just small things. Standing a little closer, letting our hands brush when we pass something, watching for a reaction. And I get one. Every time. It’s subtle, but it’s there.
An hour goes by and I can’t shut my brain off to sleep. Billie came into the room shortly after I did and I pretended to be asleep. I can’t even wrap my head around another ounce of tension. I decide to go out into the kitchen and work on some presentations for this weeks training. Might as well make my time useful. Mostly, I decide on this so I can’t replay the whole day in my mind for the eighth time.
Before I know it, forty five minutes have passed and I’ve created half a presentation about how to create quick links for the staff to access when they need to reboot their system.
I suddenly hear footsteps approaching. And then there’s a Billie.
She casually says, “you laugh more than I expected.”
“In the car. You seem quiet at work. I wasn’t sure if you secretly hated us.”
“Good,” Billie says. “That would ruin my plans.”
I frown slightly, “what plans?”
Billie takes a sip of water, watching me over the rim of the glass.
“To make you laugh again.”
I can feel my ears start to turn pink.
Billie tilts her head a little.
“Besides…you get this look right before you do.”
“Like you’re trying very hard not to.”
I shake my head quickly, “I do n-”
She cuts me off, “you do.”
Billie pushes off the fridge and steps a little closer to the counter. Not invading space. Just enough to make me suddenly aware of it.
“You go quiet,” she continues. “Then your mouth does that thing.”
I press my lips together instinctively.
I look down at my water bottle, very aware of how flustered I look now.
Billie lowers her voice slightly, playful, but softer now.
“Actually,” she says. “You’re doing it right now.”
I look up too fast and now we’re a lot closer than I expected.
For a moment neither of us moves.
Then I clear my throat and close my laptop.
I turn and high tail it down the hallway.
Billie calls after me again, clearly amused. “Goodnight.”
I pause in my tracks. “Goodnight.”
I hold onto my glass of water and smile into it. She’s catching on…right?.
I walk back into the bedroom a few minutes later, y/ni is already under the covers, very clearly pretending to be asleep.
I smile even harder to myself. Because she definitely wasn’t asleep earlier, either. And I definitely made her flustered.
I get into bed and stare at the ceiling. Across the room, I hear her shift under her blanket.
“You’re still doing it,” I say.
She groans into her pillow, “Billie. Go to sleep.”
I smile wide and my mind is going wild.Then realize something I don’t love. I can’t tell if y/n thinks this is just my personality. Or if she knows. Because I am like this with everyone. I tease, I flirt, I joke. I keep things light and keep people comfortable. But now I have a problem I’ve never really had before: How do I make it clear it’s different…without saying it outright?
The next day starts rough.
Jessica disappears into meetings the moment we arrive at the clinic.
“Administrative calls all day,” she says, already halfway down the hall. “You two are in the main training room. Try not to start a riot.”
Which leaves Billie and I standing in front of ten brand new employees who all look mildly overwhelmed.
Billie claps once. “Alright,” she says, bright and easy. “Good news is, you’ve got the fun trainers today.”
I glance sideways at her, “fun?”
The day spirals almost instantly.
Someone logs into the wrong system. A training module won’t load. One of the devices refuses to connect to WiFi no matter how many times we restart it.
By mid-afternoon, we’re moving constantly between stations helping people.
Despite the chaos, we fall into the same rhythm we had the day before.
Billie leads the explanations, I quietly fix the problems beside her.
At one point an employee asks a complicated question about the software.
Billie gestures toward me, “she’s the real expert. I just talk louder.”
I look slightly horrified to suddenly have everyone’s attention, but I explain it calmly. And by the end, the room actually understands.
Billie watches me with a small, impressed smile.
By the time the last employee leaves, the clinic is quiet again. The lights in the hallway have dimmed.
Billie drops into a chair.
“Well,” she says, stretching her arms over her head, “we survived.”
I sink into the chair beside her, “barely.”
There’s a comfortable silence for a moment.
“Any status of Jessica’s whereabouts?” Billie asks.
That was my reminder to check my phone for the first time in hours.
“She texted thirty minutes ago and said her meeting ran late, so her last one got pushed. Looks like we’re stuck here for another hour.”
Billie dramatically sighs.
I pull out my laptop again. “We should probably update the presentation for tomorrow.”
She groans, “you’re relentless.”
She knows I’m right, so she scoots her chair closer to me.
She eventually gets restless and stands, leaning over my shoulder to watch the screen.
“Okay,” Billie says. “Move that graphic up a little.”
I drag it on the screen, “like this?”
Billie doesn’t move away.
Instead, she rests her hand lightly on the back of the chair, leaning closer to see the screen. I’m trying to focus on the powerpoint in front of me, but I’m too aware of her hand.
She’s close enough that I can feel the warmth of her next to my shoulder. She smells like vanilla, mint, and wood. And that makes concentrating…suddenly way more difficult.
“Next slide,” Billie says.
Billie studies it. “Hmm.”
“You should present this part tomorrow.”
“You explained it perfectly today.”
“There were fewer people.”
“You realize everyone listens to you when you talk, right?”
“That’s because I’m loud.”
She studies me for a second. “Also, because you’re confident.”
I shrug, “fake it long enough and it sticks.”
She looks back at the screen, thinking. Also needing to break eye contact, because holy shit that’s making both of us nervous. “You’re not faking it.”
I go still for a moment. That was not the direction I expected the conversation to go.
“Careful,” I say after a second. “You keep saying nice things like that and I might start believing you.”
She smiles faintly, but keeps working. God, she’s hard.
I lean in a little closer to point at something on the screen. My arm brushes lightly against her shoulder this time. Slightly intentionally.
Y/n’s cursor pauses on the slide and I notice.
“That thing where you freeze.”
Y/n turns slightly in the chair to look up at me.
I’m still leaning over the back of it, close enough now that the distance between us feels smaller than usual.
“Why do you keep watching me like that?” she asks, quietly.
I raise an eyebrow, “like what?”
“Like you’re studying me.”
I decide to be a little more honest than the usual, “because you’re interesting.”
She breaks the eye contact again and looks back at the screen. “That’s a vague answer.”
I lean my elbow on the back of the chair, still close.
“Okay,” I say. “You want specifics?”
Y/n hesitates, “...maybe.”
I lower my voice a tad, “you pretend you’re quiet and reserved. But you say things that throw me off all the time.”
I see her ears start turning pink.
I gesture lightly toward her, “yesterday in the last training room.”
She groans softly, “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know,” I smile. “That’s why it worked.”
She finally looks up again. And because I’m leaning so close over the chair, our faces are suddenly much nearer than either of us planned.
Neither of us speaks for a moment.
I straighten slightly, but not all the way. “You’re blushing again,” I say softly.
Y/n exhales, trying to regain composure. “You’re impossible to work with.”
“And yet,” I say, glancing at the unfinished presentation on the screen, “you stayed late with me.”
“Jessica is literally our ride.”
“There’s a thing called Uber.”
She pauses for a moment and I can practically see the gears turning. “...we had work to finish.”
I smile to myself, “sure.”
But neither of us move. And the room feels a little smaller than it did when we started.
We changed our positions and we have the presentation on the projector.
“You’re overthinking it,” she says.
“You erased it three times.”
I pause mid sentence, “I’m making it clearer.”
“It was clear the first time.”
I exhale, stepping back from the board.
“You’re not the one presenting it.”
Billie tilts her head, “no, but I am the one who has watched you explain it to five different people perfectly today.”
I gesture vaguely, “it just is.”
She stops just slightly behind me.
“Walk me through it,” I say.
She nods, turning slightly toward the board again.
And like always-she’s good at it. Clear. Calm. Focused.
I watch her instead of the board, not even trying to hide it this time.
At some point, y/n notices.
“...and then the system-”
She stops and turns her head a little. “What?”
I don’t answer. I just look at her, the same look as before. Steady, intent.
“You do that thing,” I say quietly.
“When you explain something and forget I’m here.”
Y/n turns fully now, leaving us closer than we were a second ago.
I can tell she hadn’t noticed when she forgot I was in the room.
“I was explaining it,” she says.
There’s a pause. Then softer I say, “I like when you do that.”
Her breath catches just the tiniest bit. “Why?”
I shrug, “because you stop trying so hard.”
I notice her fingers tighten around the marker.
I take another step closer, leaving barely any space between us. “And you don’t have to.”
Y/n doesn’’t move away. That’s the problem. That’s always the problem. She just stands there, looking at me. Thinking, feeling. Not stepping back.
I drop my voice a little, “you’re going to do fine tomorrow.”
She shakes her head, “you don’t know that.”
“I do,” I repeat, softer. Because I mean it.
I see her exhale slowly, “you’re distracting,” she says, almost under her breath.
I curve my lips up, “yeah?”
I reach out, very lightly.. My fingers brush her arm. Not pulling, just…there.
Y/n doesn’t move away. Her eyes flick to my lips for a split second. Then back up.
I lean in, slow. Careful, giving her time to back out. To give her space to stop it.
But right before our lips meet-
We both jerk apart immediately. Too fast and too obvious.
One of the new employees stands in the doorway, halfway in.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know anyone was still here.”
I step back, running a hand through my hair.
“Yeah, we’re-we’re just finishing up.”
Y/n turns back to the board like she’s been working this whole time.
“Just reviewing slides,” she says.
The new employee nods awkwardly, “right, okay. See you guys tomorrow.”
The door closes and we’re met with immediate silence that's heavy.
Neither of us look at each other right away.
Y/n lets out a breath she was holding. “Yeah.”
“Bad timing,” she finishes my sentence.
I huff out a laugh, “very.”
We don’t try again. Not this time. The moments broken, but it’s not gone.
Her phone buzzes and she checks it. “You ready?”
We gather our things, more carefully this time. More aware.
We don’t talk about it when we leave the office. We don’t even look at each other right away. It’s all very practical; packing up, turning off the lights, locking doors. Movements that are just a little too precise, like we’re both trying to stay inside something controlled.
The almost kiss keeps lingering in the space between us. Unfinished.
We spot Jessica waiting by the car, “long night?”
“Are you too tired to drive, Billie?” asks Jessica.
She shakes her head and Jessica tosses her the keys.
Billie slides into the driver seat, Jessica in the passenger.
“We were just finishing up some slides,” she says as she starts the engine.
The radio comes on low and Jessica starts talking. The schedule for tomorrow, who’s leading what, reminders about timing.
Billie responds where needed.
“I’ll handle that section.
It’s normal. Completely normal. But we both know it’s not.
In the backseat, I’m staring out the window. But I’m not actually seeing anything. My brain is stuck on the last ten seconds in that office. The way I didn’t move. The way I almost did.
The way I know, without question, that if we hadn’t been interrupted…
I exhale slowly and shift in my seat.
Up front,I’m gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary.
I keep answering our boss, nodding along, but my mind keeps drifting. Back to that same moment. That look. The pause. The fact that y/n didn’t pull away. She didn’t stop it.
At a red light I glance in the rearview mirror, without meaning to, just for a second.
Our eyes meet. And this time…neither of us looks away immediately.
It’s brief. But it’s enough.
The light turns green and my eyes are diverted back on the road.
The rest of the drive is filled with Jessica talking. Deadlines, timelines, practical things.
But underneath it, there’s something else now.
It’s a tension that isn’t chaotic like before. It’s sharper. More aware. Because we both know exactly what almost happened.
When we pull into the Airbnb drive way, the car goes quiet.
Jessica unbuckles her seatbelt, “big day tomorrow. Get some sleep.”
We both sit in the silence, neither of us getting out. For a moment, it’s just the two of us again. The same silence from the office, just in a different place.
I glance back, “you okay?”
Y/n nods, but it isn’t immediate.
A beat. Then quieter, she says, “are you?”
I huff a small humorless laugh. “Probably not.”
This almost pulls a smile out of y/n. Almost.
Another pause. Then she says it. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
I lean back in my seat, “didn’t, technically.”
I hear her exhale, “you know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” I say. Because I do.
Then- “...do you regret it?” she asks.
I don’t answer right away, because the honest answer isn’t simple.
I see her nod. “Me neither.”
We sit for another second.
Billie reaches for the door, “we should probably go inside.”
Inside, everything is quiet. Lights on, house still. Jessica already disappeared into her room.
It’s the same as last night. Predictable, safe.
We’re in the living room, standing a few feet apart.
Neither of us moves first, both frozen.
Billie breaks first, “you didn’t stop me.”
Not accusing, just…stating it.
I finally feel brave enough to meet her eyes, “I know.”
I hesitate. Because I could say a lot of things.
Instead I go with the simplest one. “...I didn’t want to.”
Billie’s eyes flicker and something shifts immediately. She takes a small step closer.
“Then why did you stop it.”
I sigh, rubbing my face. “Because we were at work.”
“Someone walked in,” Billie adds.
Then- “and because this is a bad idea,” I finish.
There it is. Out loud, out in the open.
Billie nods once, “yeah, it is.”
No argument, no pushback, just agreement.
We both stand here, both knowing it. Same department, same boss. Same house. There’s no space to pretend it wouldn’t get messy.
But neither of us moves away.
I cross my arms, attempting to hold myself in place. “We can’t keep doing that.”
Billie says quietly, “you’re the one who keeps not walking away.”
“And you’re the one who keeps stepping closer.”
I can tell that lands, fair.
Silence stretches again, heavier now. Because we’ve both said enough to make it real.
Billie shifts her weight and for once, she doesn’t close the distance. She doesn’t push it, doesn’t test it. But part of me wants her to.
“Okay,” she finally says. Just that.
But neither of us sound convinced.
After a second, I look towards the hallway. “I think I’m gonna try to get some sleep.”
“Yeah, probably a good idea.”
I turn and walk away first. I don’t stop, or look back. Because if I do, I’ll run right back into her.
I stay in the living room a little while longer. Staring at the space where she was standing, like it’ll make her appear again. I keep running the moment back again. The almost. The way it felt like it was going to happen. The way it still could.
I let out a deep exhale, then finally head down the hallway too.
We lie in separate beds. The same room, the same quiet. The moment gone. The tension…not.
I can’t fall asleep. Because it’s not just a question of if. It’s a question of how long we can keep stopping it.
The tension today is worse, because now it’s unfinished.
We don’t avoid each other completely, that would be too obvious. But we’re not normal, either. Not like before. This is something else.
Y/n is quieter than usual. Not withdrawn, just focused. Very focused. She double checks everything, goes over her notes again.
She stands near the front of the room earlier than she needs to and I of course catch that.
“You ready?” I ask, coming up beside her.
A pause. Then, honest-”...no.”
I smile slightly, “good. That means you care.”
Y/n gives me a look, “that’s not helpful.”
Then softer, I say, “you’re gonna be fine.”
She nods, but I can tell she doesn’t fully believe it.
Throughout the morning, we keep crossing paths. Small moments, passing each other papers. Standing too close at the front table. One of us starting to say something, then stopping.
It’s almost presentation time and y/n is adjusting her laptop.
I step beside her, close. Closer than I meant to.
‘Hey,” I murmur, low enough that no one else hears.
I don’t look at her, just at the screen. “You left off the last slide transition.
She fixes it quickly, “thank you.”
I add, even quieter, “try not to think about last night.
I hear her breath catch, “that’s not helping either.”
We both step back at the same time, creating distance before anyone notices.
When it’s finally time, y/n steps up to the front.
There’s a brief moment where she looks out at the room. The new employees, our boss, the directors.
I’m off to the side, watching her. Not teasing, or distracting. Just there, steady.”
I see her take a deep breath, then she starts.
At first, there’s a slight edge in her voice. Nerves, awareness. Everything sitting just under the surface.
She falls into it. Like she always does. Explaining, breaking things down, forgetting herself.
I see it happen, the shift, the focus. The way she stops overthinking, exactly like I said.
At one point, she glances toward me. And our eyes meet, just for a second. It’s not awkward, or tense. It just feels like, ‘there you are.’
She looks back at the screen and keeps going. This time is steadier, more sure.
I smile to myself, because whatever this thing is between us is…unfinished. Complicated and probably a bad idea.
But it’s not going anywhere.
The room is full when she finishes.
Questions, feedback, people packing up laptops; noise fills the space almost immediately.
“Great job,” someone says.
“That made way more sense than yesterday.”
Jessica nods from the back, “that was exactly what we needed.”
Y/n smiles, nods, answers questions automatically. She’s composed and steady. She did it.
Across the room, I’m just watching her. Not jumping in, or interrupting. Just…watching. There’s something different in it now. Something less teasing and more certain. Something dangerous.
It takes a while for the room to clear. Some people linger, asking follow ups, double-checking processes.
Eventually, one by one, they filter out.
The door opens. Closes. Opens again. Closes again.
“I’m heading to one last conference call, I’ll text you guys when I’m done,” says Jessica.
The door opens and closes again. Until it doesn’t. Until it’s quiet.
I’m still at the front of the room, stacking my notes, organizing things that don’t really need organizing.
My hands are moving, but my brain is not. Because now that it’s over, everything else comes rushing back in. And this conference room feels a hell of a lot smaller than it did five minutes ago.
“You did good,” the voice comes behind me. Close.
I still slightly before I turn. Billie is standing a few feet away. Not across the room this time. Not keeping distance.
Then honest- “I was nervous.”
This makes me blink. “You do?”
Billie nods once, “you do that thing when you’re nervous.”
“You pretend you’re not.”
I let out a small breath, “I…yeah.”
I glance towards the door. Closed. Then back at her.
“You didn’t say anything during it.”
Billie tilts her head slightly, “you didn’t need me to.”
For some reason, that lands. Softly.
I nod my head slowly and my grip tightens on the papers in my hand.
“You kept looking at me.” It slips out before I can stop it.
She doesn’t even try to deny it, “I did.”
I exhale, “that didn’t help.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of Billie’s mouth. “Seemed like it did.”
I break the silence, looking for an out. “We should probably figure out notes we want to go over tomorrow.”
She groans, “do you ever just scroll through Tiktok?? Look through Twitter?? I don’t know, look at the trees?? Literally anything other than work??”
“When we’re not running a whole training for several people, yes.”
She slumps back in a chair, dramatically.
“Well, can I just scroll through Tiktok??”
I let out a small laugh, “you can do what you want as long as you know what’s going on tomorrow.”
“We’re teaching them how to tap into employees' computers to see what’s going on with their system and how to fix it.”
“How to fix what?” I ask quizzically.
She sighs, “Outlook issues, login issues, and launching issues.”
I give her a satisfied smile, “scroll away.”
The room is filled with her random Tiktok videos that I’ve mostly been tuning out. She laughs here and there and adds commentary, talking to no one but herself.
I’m absorbed in these notes and training demos that I haven’t even noticed she stopped and is watching me.
“You’re overthinking it.”
I jump when she speaks, her words cutting off my series of thoughts.
“Yes you are. You always do.”
Her attentiveness will never fail to throw me off.
“I just can’t figure out how to explain adding in the phone line from the system for the call center.”
She scoots closer to my laptop, “lemme see.”
She reads through my notes, doing the thing where she gets closer to figure something out.
“Here, put it on the projector.”
As it launches, she stands up to the whiteboard.
“Red is each step. Blue is each thing that you can do within each click.”
I nod and off she goes. The board quickly looks like a scene from a detective movie.
I click to the previous slide, “I just want it to make sense.”
“It already makes sense.”
I sigh softly, “you always say that.”
“Because it’s always true.”
Billie stops pacing and leans her back against the edge of the table across from me.
For a moment we just look at the screen.
“You’re impossible,” I groan. At this point, I mean she’s impossibly annoying and the way she looks at me, and acts around me is…impossible to deal with.
“You keep saying that,” she looks at me amused.
“Because it keeps being true.”
I finally close my laptop halfway.
“I was intimidated by you at first,” I confess. I’m not even sure why I do it, it just comes out.
My confession catches Billie off guard.
She smirks, “wow. Brutal.”
“I mean it as a compliment.”
Billie folds her arms, “I’m choosing to believe that.”
I study her for a moment, thinking.
“You’re different here,” I murmur.
“Here where?” Billie looks confused.
“When no one else is around.”
She raises an eyebrow, “oh?”
“Careful,” Billie says lightly. “You’re analyzing me again.”
Billie pushes off the table and walks around to the other side of it. Closer now. And it immediately makes my heart rate speed.
“And what else have you observed?”
“You watch people a lot.”
“Occupational hazard,” she says casually.
“...and you like making people nervous.” Oh my god, please y/n, shut your mouth.
Billie smiles lightly, “do I make you nervous?”
I look down at my laptop, debating whether or not to answer.
She laughs softly, “only sometimes?”
I glance up and notice the look on her face. It’s different. One that I haven’t seen yet. It’s calmer, steadier. Calculated, almost.
Before I lose my courage I ask, “why?”
She opens her mouth to give me an answer. But nothing comes out. No witty comment, no joke. Because suddenly the question doesn’t feel playful anymore.
The room is quiet except for the projector hum.
I can’t decide if I want to know the answer or not.
I tilt my head slightly, waiting. My mouth works before my brain, “well?”
Billie runs her hand through her hair, actually looking a little frustrated.
“You really want to know?”
I try to inaudibly steady my breathing, “yes.”
Billie exhales, “because you don’t react like everyone else.”
I blink, “what does that mean?”
“Everyone else laughs or rolls their eyes, or tells me to shut up.”
She steps closer to the chair and I subtly gulp.
I don’t know why, but I stand. Maybe trying to get more air into my lungs, or maybe just to not be so closed off to Billie.
“You look at me like you’re trying to figure me out.”
I feel my cheeks warm, just a touch. “I am.”
“Yeah,” she says softly. “I noticed.”
My fingers are resting on the edge of my laptop.
I look up to meet her eyes, “and you keep watching me.”
Billie lets out a quiet laugh, a little breathless this time. “You really don’t make this easy, do you?”
“I didn’t realize it was supposed to be easy.”
Billie studies me for a long moment, making me extra nervous.
Then she shakes her head slightly. “You’re doing that thing again.”
“Standing there looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” I’m really trying to wrap my head around this whole thing, but quite frankly, it is spinning.
She gestures between us, “like you don’t realize what you’re doing.”
My voice drops a little, “...what am I doing?”
That’s the moment something finally snaps. I can’t take this anymore.
I exhale sharply and step forward.
And before I can overthink it-
I reach out and take the front of y/ni’s shirt and pull her into a kiss.
It’s not gentle at first.
It’s sudden and a little desperate, because I’ve been holding it back and finally lost the argument with myself.
Y/n makes a small surprised sound against my mouth.
For half a second, I think I might have just made a huge mistake.
Then she grabs the edge of the table and leans into the kiss.
And suddenly it’s not one-sided anymore.
My hand slides from her shirt to her waist, steadying her.
The kiss slows a little, less frantic but no less intense.
When we finally pull apart, we’re both breathing a little faster than before.
I let out a shaky laugh, “yeah.”
She blinks, clearly still processing.
I slightly grimace, “should I apologize?”
I see y/n consider it for a second.
Then she reaches and grabs the front of my shirt this time.
And pulls me back in for another kiss.
Definitely doesn’t need an apology.
Her lips are soft against mine and she tastes like mint from her chapstick and watermelon from her gum. It’s a taste I can absolutely lose myself in.
The kiss breaks before either of us are ready for it to.
Not because one of us pulls away, but because Demi’s phone vibrates loudly against the table.
Too loud in a quiet room.
I pull back first this time-just enough to look down at the phone still buzzing near the laptop.
Y/n’s hand is still curled into my shirt.
Neither of us has fully let go yet.
The screen lights up and y/n glances over at it.
She lets go of my shirt and grabs the phone. “Her call is over, she wants us to meet her at the car.”
Reality snaps back in all at once.
I exhale and run my hand through my hair.
She nods a little too quickly.
Neither of us move right away, still standing too close. Still slightly breathless. Still very aware of what just happened.
She steps back just enough to create space.
“I-um,” she starts, then stops.
I let out a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh. “Yeah. Same.”
The walk out of the clinic is a blur. We gather our things too quickly, still frazzled. I nearly forget my keys.
Y/n double checks her laptop bag twice like she suddenly doesn’t trust herself to remember anything.
We don’t talk much. Just small, practical things.
“Did you grab the charger?” she asks.
The hallway lights flick off behind us as we leave.
Outside, the air feels colder than it did earlier.
Jessica is already in the driver’s seat when we get into the car.
“About time,” she says, glancing at the clock. “I thought you two got lost in there.”
“We were just finishing up.”
Demi slides into the backseat, same as before.
But everything feels different now.
The car ride starts normally. Too normally.
Jessica starts talking immediately. “You guys did great today. We’re on track for the rest of the week. Tomorrow you guys will be showing live demos of-”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” I say, nodding along. Responding where needed. But I genuinely could not tell you a single thing this lady is saying.
From the outside, it looks exactly like every other drive we’ve had.
Inside the car-it’s a mess.
I’m staring out the window again. My brain is replaying the last fifteen minutes on a loop.
The conversation. The kiss. The way I didn’t pull away. The way I leaned in. The way my hand is still tingling like it remembers gripping fabric that isn’t there anymore. The way this is a really fucking bad idea.
We arrive back at the Airbnb and this time we all exit the car at the same time.
Everything inside feels…normal. Lights on, bags by the door. The faint smell of takeout from earlier.
Jessica is already moving around the kitchen. “I’m ordering food. You two want anything specific?”
Billie answers easily, like nothing just happened. “Whatever you’re getting is fine.”
I nod, “yeah, that’s fine.”
Our voices sound steady. Too steady.
We split off after that. Not intentionally, just naturally. Jessica stays in the kitchen on her phone. Billie lingers in the living room, pretending to scroll. I disappeared into our room.
I close the bedroom door behind me and just…stand there for a second.
My bag is still half unzipped on the bed, my phone still in my hand. But I don’t move. Because now that I’m alone-it all catched up at once. The kiss. The way it wasn’t hesitant; the way I didn’t hesitate either. The way it felt like something that wasn’t supposed to happen on a work trip.
I exhale slowly and sit on the edge of the bed, pressing my hands together, trying to ground myself.
And now I have absolutely no idea what the rules are.
I am not nearly as composed as I look. I’m leaning back on the couch, phone in hand, but I have not read a single thing on the screen.
I keep replaying the moment. Not just the kiss. But what led up to it. The look. The lack of hesitation. The way y/n kissed me back like she wasn’t unsure. That’s the part that sticks. Because now I have a different problem: this isn’t one sided. And that means I actually have to be careful now. Which I’m not used to.
snowghoul
theartofmadeline