Best Served Cold - Katya X Reader

Chapter 7: You're Feisty

The world had stopped. Nothing existed outside the circle you and Katya created with your arms. You'd not even had time to admit this to yourself, let alone her, but here she was, lips pressed to yours.

But as with all things, reality trickled in and you had to gently slip out of her hands. Her face fell, sensing something was amiss. Your brows meeting, you glanced down to your shoes again, trying to figure out your mind. She was your boss. "This isn't right," you whispered. You could see her shoulders slump.

"I'm sorry," Katya offered quietly. "I thought that... well, with your friend, and then the way you were talking about me... Perhaps I misread." Your eyes shot up to her now, realising just how upset she looked. Turning away, her hand cramped around the back of the chair. It pained you to see her like this.

"Katya, it's not like that. Please," you reached out to her shoulder. "You read the situation perfectly." She looked over her shoulder at you again. Smiling softly, you urged her to turn back to you properly, sliding your hand down her arm to take her hand. "I think I was the one who misjudged things. I – you're my boss. And let's be honest, we hardly know each other."

Holding your hand tenderly, like she could break it if she squeezed too hard, she smiled. "Always so responsible." Her free hand stroked at your cheek, her eyes gliding over your face, as if to memorize the details. "I think that's why I like you, you're nothing like me." You cracked a giggle at this, feeling all the tension in your body slowly fizzle away.

"You've got your merits," you argued, shyly dropping your gaze.

Katya seemed to perk up at this, her half smirk returning. Tugging you gently closer again, she hummed once, and the butterflies utterly broke free from your ribcage. "What would those merits be?"

"Katya," you started to protest, but her hands had drifted to cradle your cheeks, her own face hovering dangerously close to you. You could smell the Marlboroughs on her breath, she was that close. "This isn't fair."

"What isn't fair, kukla?" she hummed. "All I'm asking is for you to say what you said yesterday."

The blush crept up your neck again, and you couldn't help but bite your lip a little. "I said," you muttered, "... I don't remember." She pressed a small kiss to your jaw, chuckling once.

"Come now, think." Your hands were draped over her wrists, flinching every time she kissed you. It was definitely something she noticed.

"How do you expect me to think at a time like this?" you retorted, managing to find your sarcasm amongst the flustered shyness that had swept through you. Tilting her head the other way, she kissed at the opposite side of your jaw, urging you to talk. "This really is a dangerous precedent to set as my boss."

She pulled back abruptly, confused. "I don't understand."

It was your turn to smirk, tracing your hands lightly over the pearls of her dress to take hold of her waist. "Well, you're basically telling me that if I don't say or do the right thing, you'll just start kissing me until I give you what you want. I could become your worst employee in an instant." There was a pause before she fell apart into a wheezing cackle, her whole body apparently taken over by the laughter as she slid out of your grip to flap her hands. The laughter was apparently contagious and soon you were beside yourself too, purely at the absurdity of this all.

Composing herself, she brushed her hair back, shooting you an amused look. "That... you're funny," she mused. "I like that." This brought you back to sensibility, and you dropped your eyes again. Sensing the shift in mood again, she sighed, perching on the back of the chair. "You are correct, though. There is much we do not know about each other. But," she reached out to take your hands, "I would like to learn?"