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   Morris kept his shoulders straight as he walked down the hallway towards his office. People were staring, and it's been a while since he'd had so many gazes on him- most have gotten used to his outfits a long time ago. But he wasn't minding the attention.

     Next to the door that led to the waiting room, there were two armchairs on which two girls giggled as they watched him approach. Morris gripped the handle of which size was the same as the door's and hanged by it, his tie dangling.

     "What's so funny, ladies?"

     The blonde looked him up and down with glassy eyes and giggled some more. "Nothing, Morris Kentson!"

     Morris half-grinned and leaned aside until the door opened before entering. He strolled to Rae's desk, disarranging every decorative figurine on the way. They were all placed on a deck, and he hated each one individually, with equal passion.

     "Morning! Had a good weekend? Great, good for you!" Morris talked hurriedly and slammed his briefcase on her desk, opening it. "Monday chocolate!" he took the box and darted it onto her keyboard, causing it to rattle loudly.

     Rae halted on her chair and gawked at him.

     "Morris. I have something you might want to take a look at-"

     "Don't care. Today is a very special day, Rae."

     "Nae- wait, no!" she growled.

     "My new top hat is coming! Take the package when it arrives, here's the money. Call me the second you get it."

     "Okay, great, but listen-"

     "Quiet, woman! I have a loads of planning to do for the Valentine's Party tomorrow." he closed his briefcase and glanced her over. "Take off those silly fake glasses and loosen up your hair, might actually get yourself a date by then."

     Rae gaped at him and then slowly closed her jaw, moving it left and right.

     "As you say, Morris."

     The man smiled and entered his office. Rae glared at the closed door and then moved her eyes onto her screen, on which the video of dancing Morris was paused. Now she knew why he was making such a fuss about it, it truly was ridiculous.

     She upvoted it, copied the link and opened her email.

 

     Morris walked about the lunch room, from which all tables and chairs had been moved. It was now very spacious despite the supporting pillars. A dozen people were scattered around, getting the place decorated.

     "Did they not teach you this stuff in kindergarten?" Morris stopped from his stroll to help a girl tie a bow around one of the pillars. Before she got to comment, he walked away, hands in pockets.

     He stopped by the Confession Bowl, in which a bunch of red heart-shaped papers had been put. It was a silly thing he planned on doing, that is letting people write confessions and stick them to the back of other people.

     Hopefully it wouldn't end up like last year, when the Production branch drew dicks on them instead, before sticking them on people's faces. They were such bullies.

     "These are not nearly enough. This bowl will be used on me alone." he complained, and was quite serious about it. He was a lovable guy like that.

     The girl sighed her bangs out of her eyes and picked up the scissor. Morris patted her cheek and moved on, his stroll as careless as before. He looked as if he was taking a walk on the beach.

     But then his legs dangled a little more and, steadily, he stopped by the corner with decorative flowers that would have to be placed properly. He bent down and inspected a vase full of big daisies.

     He slid one of the stalks between his fingers, feeling the flower on his palm, and picked it up.

     Morris has had a good night's (a night and half a day) sleep this weekend, and it was all it took to clear up his mind. He'd gone through his Sunday breakfast without comparing the milk to Noah's cheeks, his lunch without comparing the vapors of his soup to Noah's eyes, and his evening without comparing the feathers of his pillow to Noah's hair.

     He totally did all of the stuff, but didn't ponder on them for any more than a few seconds.

     Morris let his eyebrows knit together in confusion, as though the daisy just insulted his mother out of the blue. He caressed the white petals with his thumb and smelt it with a sad sigh to follow.

     If he'd thought he was being gay thinking of Noah like that, he was definitely gay now, smelling flowers and what not. He took it a step further and started playing 'Loves me not', with no one in particular on mind.

     The petals waltzed their way towards the ground one by one, pooling around Morris's black dress boots while he mouthed the chanting, oblivious to the mess and chatter surrounding him.

     He got to the last five petals.

     Loves me.

     Loves me not.

     Loves me...

     Loves me not...

     ...

     ....Loves m-

     Manicured fingers snatched the flower away.

     He snapped his head up to see the main receptionist, the one Victor had mentioned in their discussion of the secret plan. She was the hot stuff.

     She grinned wide and clean. Her teeth were longer than usual but it had a charm to it since her smiles were also bigger than usual.

     "So, do I love you or do I love you not?"

     Morris watched her snap off the head of the flower with that last petal he'd had yet to pinch. She pressed it into her hairpin, and it stood there keeping her hair like an open curtain to the nice view that was her foxy nose and sharp eyebrows.

     The man ran a hand down the grey, black, brown argyle tie that he'd chosen for the beige shirt and dark blue suit.

     "Why don't you find out yourself tomorrow at the party, Heather?"

     She laughed through her nose, poking his chest playfully as she often times do when he visited her desk. They've been flirting around for a few years now, but it was just sort of a routine, however it was clear that neither would mind the serious deal.

     "Cannot wait, Morris Kentson."

     "Morris, can you come here for a minute?"

     The man winked to Heather and followed the voice to meet a man that was vice president of party planning committee and proud. He even had a self-made badge and a list in his hands. The badge read Tyler.

     Morris coughed. "What's up dude?"

     Straight-talk.

     The man looked at him as though he'd stepped in gum.

     "Right. Look, I managed to invite every branch, save for-"

     "IT."

     "Yes, they have to be here. How do we go about that?"

     Morris started bobbing his head on the melody playing, they were testing the music system.

     "Oh." he raised a finger. "Bring the coffee machine from 9th floor. It's like their source of gravitation."

     Tyler grinned like a scratch on the blackboard. "Great, just let me sort of drag it nine floors down."

     "I'll call some workers, they'll be here tomorrow. Until then, let me measure it so that you can reserve a spot for it."

     Tyler hurried to a table nearby and handed him a measuring roulette, and Morris was on his way.

     Just as he stepped outside the lunchroom, his phone ringed. It was Rae.

     "Yes Nae?"

     "Your stupid top hat."

     Morris ran.

 

     Since it was late in the evening and 99% of the workers were home while the rest were in the lunch room organizing stuff, Morris let himself wear the top hat around. He couldn't wait for tomorrow, the party was classy and so he could wear the hat all he wanted without being judged. Too much.

     Rounding the last corner, he went for the coffee machine only to halt. Would he always be there?

     Morris took off his hat and put it in the box. He'd squealed over the box, it had such a nice, vintage model on it! Like a grandma's wallpaper.

     "Why aren't you home?"

     Noah glanced at him from where he stood crouched to observe the process of coffee-making, a cigarette between his lips. He was wearing grey jeans and a pale blue long-sleeve shirt. It was large, of course, but the soft, thin material hanged by his thin frame nicely.

     "It's my turn to take care of the project."

     Morris approached. "What project?"

     Noah sighed, taking his coffee and standing up. Morris watched distressed as he downed the entire thing at once before inserting more money.

     "Me and the guys of my floor created a Conway's Game of Life program. We take turns observing it."

     "I don't know what that is."

     Noah took his second coffee and downed it as well.

     "Stop that."

     The man glanced at him from above the rim while not stopping. A thin droplet fell from the corner of his mouth, and the ash of the cigarette between his fingers was almost falling. (yes, book cover)

     He threw the empty cup in the trash, wiped his chin with a thumb and took a drag of his cigarette.

     "No."

     Morris would've sighed, but he was far too pumped about his new hat to feel anything but giddiness. He walked closer, trying not to stare at Noah. He's been thinking that he was maybe exaggerating with all of the comparisons and mental images, but he was being proven wrong over and over again. He was just so white and special!

     "Sobered up?" Noah asked while observing Morris, who placed the box down and spread the roulette two arms length.

     "Oh I am so sorry about that call..."

     "No sweat." Noah went to Morris's back and reached an arm around him to insert money into the machine.

     Morris's eyes bulged out, his cheekbone pressed into the tiny screen, of which green light mixed with his red blush. Noah let his head rest on Morris's back as he pushed the buttons blindly, most likely experienced.

     "What're you taking measures for?" the man asked lightly.

     Morris checked the roulette. 98 cm.

     "This'll be in the lunch room until the day after tomorrow." Morris said, still very much uncomfortable with the situation.

     Naturally, Noah made it worse. Worst.

     Once the coffee was ready, he quite literally reached an arm between Morris's legs and retreated his coffee.

     Morris turned hotter than chili pepper poured in lava from the sun and inched away from the position. Noah snickered into his cup while Morris moved to the side of the vending machine, away from view, to measure it.

     "Why?"

     Morris peeked around the thing. "So that IT comes to the party."

     "Ugh." Noah spun his cup of coffee. He chose to consume it in a human manner.

     "It'll be fun." Morris read 90cm and walked away from his hiding spot. "You can bring a date."

     Noah finished his cigarette and squashed it into the vending machine before flicking the butt into the trash. "Great."

     "Who are you bringing?"

     Noah drank some coffee. "No one. What's in that box?"

     Morris breathed out quietly and picked up the box while Noah threw away his empty cup.

     "Just shoes." he lied. The guy had enough reasons to make fun of Morris.

     Noah reached out and darted the lid of the box aside.

     "Ah, shoes for the head, heard of them."

     Morris sighed, watching as Noah took out the hat and inspected it, then put it on Morris's head and grinned up. Whenever he did, accentuated lines would form at the corners of his mouth.

     "Awesome."

     ...

     Morris cocked his head, speechless. He looked into Noah's pale eyes, from one to the other, searching for the joke.

     "Seriously, I mean since you have all that going on, might as well." Noah eyed Morris's 'all that', meaning his old-style outfit.

     Then, he took advantage of Morris's statue self to take the hat and wear it. He nudged it around, then stuck out his tongue. Dark circles, wide transparent eyes, sucked in cheeks, goofy expression, top hat.

     "How do I look?"

     Morris cocked his head the other way and slammed his lips onto Noah's.

     His forehead bumped into the hat, sending it flying to the ground, and Noah stumbling into the wall. He took grip of his upper arms and deepened the kiss, hunching down into him.

     Noah's chest was arched to the fullest from the air he'd gasped in through his nose. His hands randomly patted Morris's arms, shoulders, chest, as though he was looking for him in the dark

     Morris made a weird surprised nose in the back of his throat, moved a hand on the side of Noah's head and tilted it upper, mouthing his soft, wet lips. Coffee-breath and taste of cigarette, far from pleasant, but he was feeling god damn enlightened.

     Morris pulled back with a gasp. With slow, shaky movements, he placed the hat back in the box and straightened up. Noah looked at him with eyes just a little wide and lips just a little parted.

     While Morris backed away towards the elevator, Noah followed equally slow, maintaining eye contact. When Morris entered and pressed a button, Noah leaned on the outside wall and patiently looked at him, arms crossed. Morris gawked at him the whole time while Noah stared mutedly.

     The doors slowly slid close, every second more awkward than the previous one, until they couldn't see each other anymore.

     Morris stumbled with the movement of the elevator and leaned on the doors, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

     ...

     .... he forgot the measurements.

Fun stuff: Google Conway's Game of Life and see what happens. Also, pic of waiting room... up there. (stupid wattpad changing sh!t)

Ok. So. The contest was: Morris and Noah will:

a) kiss

b) argue

c) dance

d) cry

... no one guessed they'd kiss!! :'D lolzies. comment~

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