❄ Camille ❄
Sebastian walked into my office at four thirty on Friday. The rest of the building was already in weekend mode. Phones rang less. People laughed more. Tina hovered near the reception with her bag on her shoulder. I pretended to read an email, but my fingers paused on the keyboard. I felt him before I looked up. That was the problem lately. My body noticed him first. He didn’t knock. Not that he always did. Instead, he leaned against my doorframe with his hands in his pockets. As always, his face was calm and unreadable. The cold manager mask was back, but it didn’t fit the way my skin still remembered him in my bed two nights ago.
“Camille,” he greeted, more to get my attention than anything else. I finally looked over at him and let out a rather dramatic sigh.
“Sebastian,”
