"Steven you idiot!" She yelled as he lobbed another Egyptian-dressed hippo at her head.
"Wasn't me." He held up his hands to show they were empty but the shit-eating grin that spread across his face told another story.
"You're so full of shit, this is why I hate doing inventory with you. We could've been done by now." She crossed her arms and huffed to exaggerate her point.
Somehow he just smiled even wider.
Her heart stuttered at the sight and her mock anger facade dropped. She very rarely got to see him smile like that here; the gift shop wasn't the most fun job in the world and their coworkers were not pleasant company... like, at all...
She actually loved doing inventory with him. Just them, alone, in the quiet museum, mucking around with no one to scold them. Sometimes, if they finished early, they would sneak around the exhibits behind the cleaners' backs. Steven would tell her so many details about each artefact.
It made her so mad on his behalf that he couldn't be a tour guide. He was so passionate, he would've been the best one there.
She couldn't help but get lost in the way that his arms gestured wildly or how his curls bounced at he spoke. She couldn't help but laugh at the funny faces he made.
Little did she know, he made those gestures, those faces, to get her to laugh in the way that he loved.
Yes, Steven adored his time one-on-one with her too.
Her quips, her intent listening as he went off topic with random facts, how warm and safe he felt when he was around her... the sparkle of her eyes when he finally brought the belly-laugh out of her or her slight smirk that accompanied her faux anger...
They'd been skirting around whatever was between them, whatever this was, for months.
"Finish up that box. I wanna show you something." Steven said, clapping his hands to emphasise his excitement.
"Mystery, mystery man..." she drawled, leaning over the counter, "show me what?"
"You'll see." He said nonchalantly but he couldn't hide the cheeky quirk of his lips.
They'd officially gotten halfway through the inventory once she finished that box; it was time for their break.
He sped up to her and grabbed her hand before immediately dropping it like it had burnt him.
"What-"
"Sorry-"
They giggled at the accidental synchronicity.
"I'm sorry," he started, "for, uh, you know... you can just follow me. I got too excited." His words slowly coming out in a mumble.
He chewed his lip nervously. She watched the action. He ran a hand through his fringe.
Instead of telling him that it was fine, she decided to show him, putting her fingers through his own coarse ones. He stared down at where they were intertwined.
"Lead the way, tour guide." She said in a fake-posh voice, partly relieving the tension.
He raised a brow before breaking into a sprint, dragging her along.
She laughed full out, the sound that made his breathing hitch more than the running, as they turned corners and bumped through large wooden doors that echoed loudly throughout unoccupied halls.
The frantic pair got many a dirty look from staff that lingered like phantoms... but neither of them could bring themselves to mind, too wrapped up in eachother's company to dare lose focus and miss a second.
A few flights of stairs later, he stopped suddenly and she all but crashed into his back, whispering an apology.
"Close your eyes."
"Oh, uh, no, Steven. Not again."
"What? Why not?" He said innocently and pouted.
"Because last time you did this you ran off- don't laugh- you ran off and hid to be funny but I got lost, didn't I?" She squinted at him.
He pursed his previously pouted lips in an effort to not laugh at the memory.
He'd snuck into the security booth at the entrance of the museum to watch her take wrong turn after wrong turn. In the end, he'd had to go and help her to which he'd gotten a slap on the arm and the silent treatment for the rest of their shift. It was well deserved now that he thought back to it.
But that wasn't what he was doing this time...
"I'm not gonna do that! I wouldn't do that again, would I? Boooo! How predictable. Close your eyes." He wiggled his head.
She paused, pretending to think it over, but doing what he asked.
"OK, Steven, eyes are-a-closed."
He waved a hand in front of her face to make sure and then lead her to what he had prepared.
He slowly removed his hand from hers; it was hard for them to ignore the emptiness that they felt at the loss of contact, the coldness...
Steven walked round so that he was behind her and she couldn't suppress a weird shiver of anticipation. This felt different than they'd ever been before.
He gently took hold of her shoulders, leaning his head over.
"Open."
Slowly blinking to adjust to the dim lighting of the closed museum, she took in her unfamiliar surroundings.
They were up on an overlooking balcony where she could see the wide expanse of the layout and exhibitions The orange glow from glass casings was calming and mystifying simultaneously.
It was then that she noticed their coats spread on the ground like a mini blanket and their two packed lunches (well, dinners by this time of night) in front.
How he got into her locker was a question for another time.
Right now she just wanted to take it all in, the sweetest gesture she'd ever been on the receiving end of... she hoped she wasn't taking it the wrong way.
She was silent for a long time just staring.
He dropped his chin onto his hand that was still on her shoulder. She could feel his soft brown curls against the planes of her face.
"You not like it? Bit much? Not enough? I, uh, just thought it'd be nicer than, you know, sitting in the back room on those sold tables and-"
"I love it." She said, shifting to face him as much as she could, catching him in her peripheral.
He turned to face her too, forgetting how close they were and bumping noses.
Did either of them move back, though? No.
Her face flushed and he was sure a blush dusted his own cheeks too.
Rotating in his lapsed grasp so that she was facing him completely, she darted her tongue out and his dark eyes flicked down to watch the movement.
"I like you." He blurted, wincing at the volumed and whispering, "I really, really like you."
She swallowed and breathed a chuckle.
"I, uh," she started and looked at the hopeful expression on his face, hoping hers matched, "I really, really like you too." She finished by looking at her shoes, suddenly shy.
He stepped so their bodies were pressed as close as he dared with a small surge of confidence he found in the back of his mind.
He put his finger under her chin and tilted her face so her gaze raised back to meet his.
She smiled at his oversized sleeves.
Unable to wait anymore, he brought his lips to hers and they immediately melted into one another. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he slowly swept his partially covered shaking hands through the soft tresses of her hair. It started small, tentative, before other emotions burst through and the kiss deepened.
His smell was sandalwood and bonfire and a hint of something fruity.
Her smell was freshly cut flowers and oranges.
When they broke apart, forehead met forehead and they giggled like love-sick fools.
"I hate doing inventory with you," she breathed, "you're so... chaotic."
"Well," he sighed dramatically, sliding his hands down her face to her neck, "we all need a bit of chaos."