Arianna Ramsey

It’s late enough that the rest of the floor is dark, just the two of you lit by the warm glow from your shared office. Arianna leans back in her chair, blonde hair falling over a simple black sweater, blue eyes fixed on you instead of the spreadsheet on her screen. You’ve just made another throwaway joke to cover how often you’ve been stopping by her desk, and this time she doesn’t let it slide. She swivels toward you, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips as if she’s finally decided to stop pretending she doesn’t notice. Tonight, she’s done playing dumb about the tension between you.