Pan POV
I created a group chat with Nee on Messenger though I cannot call it a group yet because there are only two members, Nee and me. I named it "The". Sounds creative indeed! It sounds like the title of a blockbuster film, like 'It', 'Babe', 'Jaws', or 'Saw' 😆😆. I dunno but it suddenly popped out somewhere in my head and I typed it as the name of the group chat. I wanted to add Tom but I cannot find his name on FB. I'll just ask Nee to add him.
Nee chatted me.
"Very ingenious name, Pan! "The" as chat name..."The" MORON named Andreas Napoleon created this!!!😒🤦♂... Need you in the office at 1 pm."
He needs me in the office. Some light works, I guess.
At Nee's office...
Nee is sitting on his chair typing on his personal computer with a cup of tea on his left. He noticed me and stood up from his seat. He stretches his arms upwards then sports his trousers.
"I washed it." I pointed out his jeans.
He gives me a fake smile pointing Tom on his table. "He might hear it!" he replied. "He might think I'm treating you badly."
"Don't worry washing it is VOLUNTARY... So what's my job this afternoon?"
"THE huh? Really a stupid name from you!... Type this for me using my laptop and save it on this flash drive." He tossed the flash drive to me and I almost drop it broken on the floor.
"After?"
"You are free!"
"Easy!!!" 😁
I started typing.
Then, I realized I am typing slowly because my fingers hardly reach the keys. I have trouble using all my fingers. Very unskilled.
It's three o'clock in the afternoon and my fingers started feeling sore. Then the door opened and guess who? It was him, nonchalant like the last time I saw him. He looked at me, raised his brow and walks toward Nee. They talked and I don't care. I focused on the keyboard, and seldom on the screen because I might miss a letter or even punctuations. I glanced on the screen and gets upset on the red lines in almost every word in the sentences. It is impossible for me to avoid typo errors in a sentence. My fingers aren't used to typing because most of the time I pay someone to encode my reports.
Way back in the previous university. I had a friend who types papers and even manuscripts for money. Sometimes I do the typing but I prefer to write something by hand. It takes time for my fingers to get used to as I patiently and slowly write the chapters of the scripts. On top of that, the handwriting is really, really bad. I reached out my phone and put the headset on my ears and click on my playlist entitled 'When You Can Do Nothing At All". This playlist is just an epic, upbeat list of songs I choose to listen to when I have nothing to do. The playlist includes, the Lazy Song by Bruno Mars, Eh Eh (There's Nothing Else I Can Say) by Lady Gaga, Radio Gaga by the Queen, Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen and other songs. I played a song...
Your stare was holdin' 🎶
Ripped jeans skin was showin' 🎶
Hot night wind was blowin' 🎶
Where you think you're going, baby...🎶
Hey, I just met you and this is crazy...
But here's my number.....
So call me Maybe....🎶
🎧🎙🎙🎶🎶🎶🎶🎙🎙🎧
Nee said something to me but I did not hear it clearly. I just nodded to him quirking my eyebrows as I feel the beat of the song. I cannot understand what he's saying because the song's chorus splits my attention into two.
He, who just arrived, finds his way to the chair and sits in front of me dashing with his right hand supporting his head. He is bored and he attempts to make that gesture too clearly by taking deep breaths. I did not mind him. Really I did not.
Then he serves me an eyebrow flash, lifting his brows and pulling his eyes open allowing his eyes to look bright, large and inviting. I know it is persistent but I did not mind him.
His nostrils subtly gaped like a bull playing the holes of its own nose. I did the same with my eyes locked on the keyboard to play with his play without giving him a smile nor a look. I did not mind him. I continued listening to my songs playing them more than once. I'd rather break my eardrums than to look at his face which is curiously diverting my attention and then urging me to get confused and disoriented.
He rakes his hair flattering his hairstyle, messing it like he is fresh from the shower. His curly hair makes it the trendiest hair in the city and the most groomed unlike Nee's. The curls invite others to ruffle it playfully. He looks, at this very time, like a person who just woke up but the mess is worth snoozing the alarm clock from buzzing. I rooted myself, gluing my entire body to the soft cushion on my chair. I typed faster and did not even try to look at him. Miraculously, I typed like a pro. I did not look at him. Promise I did not!
The songs are making me distracted plus the words are directly tumbling inside my head as I pause for a moment to rest my hands. The lyrics and the scripts from the papers I am typing are all flying inside my brain and my thought is folded many times like a cloth. I lowered the volume but the striking distraction is still ravaging my field of vision and focus.
Now he brushes his cheeks up and down with the back of his fingers. He touches his ears and rubs his chin like he is looking closely at someone. I can infer it as a mixture of nervous excitement and autoerotic arousal. It is visually comprehensible especially when he touches his own lips and licks it. This man is teaching the idea that it could be a good time to kiss someone. But who? He looked so sexy but it NEVER attracted me. He never dragged me in his illusion and lunatic digression. I'm not an easy catch. I'm not easy to get, for his information, and besides this man is too handsome to become homosexual. He is a bum! And that did not call my precious attention. I did not mind him looking at me. I didn't care. I'm sure! 😅
I spotted him staring at me with a piercing look. A look without blinking. He holds his gaze for longer than a few minutes, as in longer than I can when I focus on something interesting. His eyes dart a very curious look and I am sensitive when someone is looking at me in a straight line. He is probably thinking about how to kill me by sight. He isn't Cyclopes of the X-men who can cut walls using his laser eyes or Sasuke who can use the infamous Sharingan to subdue his opponents.
In my hometown, we have a neighbor who can make you sick once he lands a jealous stare at you. My grandmother warned me to stay away from him or from those types of people because they might make me feel ill. If this person in front of me stares like my neighbor, I would feel blue after five minutes and worst I would die from it. Better if killing is not his intent, worst if he's stripping me down to my underwear! 😱 I feel a sudden feeling of fear for my body. I think I should cover that part...eeeeeee!
By the way, I paid much-much-much attention to the spellings, punctuations and even grammar, though the latter isn't my expertise. I mumbled some words possibly enchantment not to be bewitched by someone. But truth is, I try to analyze the writing.
Wait.... What he did was a twinkle in his eyes and that's very... discreet but mischievous! I caught it in the eye.
Going back to my SA duties, I am confused between the words 'reference' and 'referee'. Nee uses 'referee' in one of the sentences but he's not writing about a person in sports who makes sure players act according to the rules of the game. In his context, it means a person who can be asked for information about another person's character, abilities, and other things.
"Referee or Reference" I pondered. 🤔
I searched the words and confirmed the meaning and the differences thinking I should learn new words every day starting today. I mumble in front of my phone. I did not care to look at the guy in front of me. He is not expensive enough for my attention!
This man has persistence embedded inside him; he's trying to get my care. He plays, not on his phone but with the buttons on his white uniform. He pinches the button on his collar and slips to unbutton it. Then he slid his fingers to the button below the other slowly unbuttoning it. He is exposing his neck and a portion of his chest to allow air to cool himself. The AC is working 25 degrees cold, then why he felt hot all in a sudden? He flirtatiously pushes the button of his uniform that locks the part that conceals his chest. Gently, he unbuttons it and surprisingly he did not continue unbuttoning. Well, of course, no normal person would strip in an office with his advisor and his SA's.
Duh...
Why expect more than two buttons unbuttoned?
Instead, he buttons the part he unfastened a second ago.
"Malicious!" I told myself.
He plays with the buttons again starting to slowly unbutton the collar down to the next and then the other. He then gently scratches his chest consciously showing his athletic physique.
This is steamy and I know the girls would pay for this and I know they would love to venture down the depths of his lower shirt buttons. Again, the AC is maintained at 25 degrees. If he is showing his allege 'hotness' then that is undeniably a cliché form of guys who are all full of themselves. It's cliché but it's enticing.
That intimate open shirt is a man coming out of him!
Still, for a person like me who is immune to these kinds of hunky-punky, charm-posing men; that is never an entertainment. Never! He can do it repeatedly all afternoon and I can do my job without being side-tracked. He can never stun me dead. I did not mind him. I wanted to finish this early and enjoy my afternoon.