Falling, Fallen | ✔️

23

~Ayla's POV~

I felt something light hit me on the back of my head, making me scowl in annoyance as I stared at my computer screen. "Pssst," I heard an annoying whisper from behind me, which I continued to ignore—or at least, I attempted to ignore.

"Ayla!" I heard someone whisper shout my name and I set down my pen, rubbing a hand over my face. Another crumpled up paper ball hit me on the back of my head. "What is this? The ninth grade?" I grumbled to myself, still not daring to turn around. It wasn't like this was an unusual occurrence for me—in fact, it happened at least twice a week, but I always hoped that by ignoring it then it would stop eventually. Of course, that wasn't the case. I felt another gentle thud on the back of my head and glared at my computer screen. "Don't ignore me," My harasser whined. By now I was just about ready to slam my head into the desk.

I finally turned around when another ball hit me, glaring at Mitchel, one of my coworkers. "What, Mitty?" I snapped, frustrated. He huffed and pushed his glasses up his pointy nose, before pointing at me with one very long finger. "You have an attitude today." He said, only making me glare at him some more. Mitchel was an interesting guy, and I thought he was okay enough because he was pretty nice, but he was incredibly weird. Everyone else who worked with us was relatively boring, but Mitty was certainly more of a wild card. "Maybe because I'm trying to work and you're throwing crumpled up balls of paper at the back of my head like we're in high school still." I retorted, earning a raised brow as he looked at me.

"Sounds to me like you just need to get laid, because you got a stick up your ass that needs removing." He said, making my face burn as I scowled at him again. "Shut up, Mitty." I said grumpily, embarrassed. He snickered and flicked a broken bit of eraser off of his desk, probably hoping to hit me with it, but it simply fell to the ground after getting about halfway across. "Speaking of getting laid, how are you and your hubby doing? Things are okay?" Mitchel asked, innocently curious.

For obvious reasons, I hadn't told anyone that Soren and I's marriage was fake, so it wasn't like it was unusual for Mitchel to be asking about things with Soren. Still, sometimes I felt a little bit bad when I had to lie to someone's face like this. "Um," I awkwardly mumbled, turning to face him more. "We're fine." I said simply, trying to be as simple and as vague as possible. Making up stories on the spot wasn't my strong suit.

Mitchel had a playfully perverted look on his face, wiggling his dark brows at me. "So you're still getting laid often? You don't act like it." He teased, making me roll my eyes as I fought a smile. I shook my head and slouched back into my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. "That's not your business. If you want some sort of sexual thrill, then I suggest you go find your own, far away from me." I said, giving him a grin. I was sure Mitchel wouldn't exactly have a hard time finding someone to bump uglies with. He was pretty cool, at least.

Although I could admit that I didn't personally think Mitty was attractive, it didn't mean that he wasn't at all. He just wasn't my type. He wasn't at all like Soren. No, Mitchel was thin and kind of lanky looking because he was tall, standing at at least six feet tall. His brown hair was messy and his brown eyes were framed by a pair of prescription glasses that he always wore. Apparently without them he was blind as a bat, or at least that's what he had told me before. I thought he was about average, but I knew that there were plenty of people who liked guys like him—and besides, Mitchel really was very kind, despite the fact that he had some odd quirks. I liked him as a friend, but nothing more.

He laughed and I saw some of our other coworkers glance over at the two of us, annoyed looks on their faces. "Sorry, sorry. Just joking." He apologized, letting out a little chuckle as he stretched out his legs. They poked out from beneath his desk and hit the back of my chair because his legs were so long. "Are there any special people in your life?" I asked him, feeling curious. I hadn't asked this question in a while, because he usually said the same thing: no. Who's gonna want to date me?