From The Voice to My Voice

Still captivated by his voice. Thankfully (or damnedly), not for a lot longer. I'll probably be able to hold it until next week. But, damn, I think I'm starting to get caught deeper into his net.

At first, I thought I could think of him only as The Voice. But for the past few days, we have talked about many things. Things I never knew could interest him. So it hasn't been all about work and silly jokes, but also a wide range of topics. On one day we talked about a gadget he recently acquired for his work, same kind of designing pad. Then on another day, we talked about the increasing rate of motorbike gangster that has been a terror in town. Yesterday, we discussed about conspiration theories, ranging from man-made 'natural disasters', Freemasonry and Illuminati, to NII and Jamaah Islamiyah.

And now somehow he had changed into My Voice. It's just that he's not mine. Shit. Have I fallen for him? Everyday I have difficulties restraining my limbs not to touch him. Not to hold him. Stupid Bengal. Shouldn't let an intelligent mind screw with me.

The Voice + Intelligence = Bengal's Doomsday...

Fuck me, please. Literally, honey... :'(

New Voice In My Head

My team recruited a freelance designer for a project. He's actually one of our previous employees, but had resigned years ago. I didn't get any close to him at that time. And since working together for this project, I came to realize that he's got a killer voice.

Shit! Bengal fell hard. For his voice. Shiiiiiit...

We sat side by side for the past 2 or 3 weeks. Imagine how I have to suffer through this sensual Spanish Inquisition.

I don't know who had started this kinda flirty banter. Maybe I've been sending some sort of come hither signal or maybe he became kinda attracted to me, we've been verrry flirty for the past few weeks. A running joke is how we wished there weren't any cameras in the office.

'Pssst, Bengal!' he'd whispered in my ear.

'Huh?' I'd surprisedly looked at him and would find his lips only centimeters from mine.

'If there's no camera...' he'd left the sentence hanging, then he'd wink and grin.

I'd grin widely, 'I know. Pffft...'

We'd both stare back at our own notebook, but once or twice he'd graze my thigh oh so softly and silently laugh. That flirt! :D

And I still have to endure his deep voice every time he speaks.

Damn, flirting is fun! ;)