It was exactly 2:00 pm when the sun that scorched through the window drove droplets of sweat to trickle down my forehead. The 95˚ exterior began to penetrate the cramped office, and I felt myself grow unable to sit still. I pressed my muculent palms to my lace blouse as I felt his eyes on me. 

It was too much. I wanted him. The heat was getting to my head, and I had to escape. I dashed to the elevator for a chance to peel off my soaked blouse. I needed to feel my body, to feel the freedom of my skin in its natural state.

As if by reflex, I turned before I reached the doors. We locked eyes. I knew he had gotten the memo when he pushed his way in after me. 

Would he smile if I placed my hand to his cheek and slowly worked my way upward past his blush pink lips, finally landing in his golden curls? Or would my overzealousness keep him away from me? 

The things I would give to watch his tightly bound tie fall to the ground, only to exist in a land of endless possibilities. He always seemed to have a slightly unsettled demeanor, especially during heat waves like this one. 

Oh, how my smooth fingers longed for the solace that lies hidden underneath that poorly selected thick blazer. 

I wondered if he wanted me too. 

– 

I spilled scalding hot coffee on the way to work today, and I could feel the edges of my blazer latch onto my skin. Hopefully she would not notice my less-than-desirable appearance. 

I thought of her symmetrical wide-set eyes. They were big and brown and I felt them on me as I entered the office in a sweat. 

Does she know how badly I want to bury myself in her business casual attire? I can’t shake my fixation. 

She moved with an uncanny confidence toward the elevator. Her parting glance told me it was now or never.

I followed. She flicked her fingers against her phone screen, creating elevator music as I walked in, as if just for me. 

The air was sucked out of the room as I watched her gain control of the situation. She tears at her blouse, and I’m lit aflame. 

I could taste the salt of her sweat. I burned for her touch. 

The only thing that kept me from confronting her was the suffocating heat. I hated how tight it made my clothes feel. 

I wondered if she wanted me too. 

Creative Direction Kate Kunitz, Sydney Goldstein
Words Talia Zakalik
Photographs Jacqueline Yoon, Sydney Hou
Stylists Kate Kunitz, Sydney Goldstein
Featuring Aidan Lewis, Adara Ezekwe

Armour Magazine Season 29 — F/S 2023