Painting Flowers // Ashton Irwin [au]

Four

***Please read author’s note***

Emilia’s POV

I lean against the railing that overlooks the first floor of the library and keep a mental count of how many people have walked across the maroon carpet floor. So far, there has been zero, but that’s no surprise seeing that it’s seven in the morning and no one is mentally alive at this hour so there is no point in coming to the library until at least ten. But I have to open up the library and make sure that everything is ready by the time the other student workers arrive which won’t be for another half hour.

I’m beginning to question why I even accepted this position as supervisor. When I first found out last semester after Finn’s perverted and ignorant stunt that the financial aid office appointed me as his replacement for this semester, I was a little overwhelmed, but seeing how I had to act his role once when Finn was sick, I figured it would be an easy job—that is until I went to training yesterday.

There is so much about the job duties of a supervisor that I didn’t even know of. Apparently, Finn was slacking the entire time when he should have been checking the library databases for errors, filing paperwork, and acting as an advisor towards the other workers. All Finn did was throw his work on everyone else and walk aimlessly around the library to “surveillance” the other workers—granted, I’m supposed to do that too, but it’s not my only duty.

Along with my added responsibilities for my job, I also had to change my hours for work to fit my class schedule. Instead of my usual afternoon shift twice a week, I now have to come in the mornings three days out of the week and in the afternoon the other two days. At least I work shorter hours now so I guess that’s a plus. Thankfully I have a set number of hours that I can work each week and on the days that I’m off the clock, Irene, who I get to work with again, will fill in for me.  

Even though there are a lot of crappy responsibilities for my work study, I’m actually really excited for it—not so much the early mornings, but the fact that I was, in a way, promoted. I’m pretty sure if it weren’t for the boost in self-confidence and semi-openness to change, I would have asked for someone else to take the position, but I’m different now.

What used to be a mountain that was almost impossible to climb when it came to situations like these is nothing more than a tiny hill that I can easily walk over without fail. I no longer make mountains out of molehills; it’s actually reversed now and as I think about it, my cheeks begin to hurt from how hard I’m smiling to myself because I’m actually proud of my changed self.

A gentle tug on my ponytail startles me and I instinctively latch my hands onto the railing that I was previously leaning against and I let out a small gasp before turning around to face the culprit of my near heart attack.

His curly hair is pushed back and to the side, leaving only a small portion of his curls on the other side. As much as I like his long hair, I think it’s about time for a haircut. An amused grin adorns his face as he shifts back and forth on his feet with his hands behind his back in attempt to act innocent, but his guilty expression gives him away.

“Can you not give me a heart attack this early in the morning?” I breathlessly ask, and Ashton lightly chuckles before pulling me into a hug.

“Good morning to you too,” he says sarcastically after pulling away.

I roll my eyes and look back over the railing to survey the first floor which is still empty, and then turn back around. “When did- How did you get in here without me noticing?” I question. I’ve been looking downstairs this entire time and I didn’t even see him. What is he—some kind of ninja?