The Office | Jim and Pam Oneshots

Boggle

Falling in love seems pretty simple to him. And it is, the complicated thing about loving someone is trying to get over them.

It's hard to get up from that trip or that stumble because he knows he physically can't. And even though he tries to lift himself back up with his hands, his bones fail so he just stays there. Stays laying on the floor after a hard hit.

Because falling in love is easy. A scattered rock or a stick on the ground is easy to topple over. It's the same as a strawberry blonde with an amazing sense of humor, an artist who makes him tongue tied every time he's around her, or a gorgeous receptionist with a meathead of a fiancé.

Those are the people he falls in love with. Those are the types of people that make him unable to get up.

She likes to play boggle. They play it when they're bored, when it's slow and there's not much else to do.

He sees faded cubes and scattered letters on the break room table. The sand is slowly headed towards the bottom of the timer as he searches for any more words he can possibly spell. He wonders if "Cla," is a real word.

He wonders if there's any possible way to spell, "I love you."

When there's no remainder of sand in the upper part of the timer, she snatches the pencil from his hand and stops him from gaining any more points. They count up the words and he hears the scratching of pencils as she tally's up the points.

She wins. She always wins.

"I wasn't trying, Beesly." He teases, and she shrugs her shoulders because she knows that even if he did try she would still floor him.

"Mhm."

He makes a mental note to get into better shape, because her smile should not make him unable to breath.

"Wanna go again?"

He agrees, and when he loses he buys her another bag of french onion. He doesn't even realize he's falling even further into her until she offers him some of her chips.

Slowly, he dies from boredom. He glares as she flips the boggle timer over again and he carefully watches each grain plummet to the bottom through the thin glass.

This is when she runs her hand through his hair. Like she's studying each and every strand of soft and silky lock. His cheek is resting against the cool break room table and she watches innocently, his eyes closed and his smile small, she barely notices the small upward turn at the end of his lips.

She flips the boggle timer over one more time, she says, "You're last minute before our break is over."

He mumbles something along the lines of "Okay," or "Alright," It might've been, "You're gorgeous."

He doesn't need to look at her to know she's smiling. He hears the loud noise of leg chair screeching against the carpet. That's when he realizes she's going back to work.

Before she leaves though, she kneels downward and whispers in his ear, "You suck at Boggle." And quickly kisses the point below his ear, where his neck meets his jawline.

He's falling again. Falling into her like she's the only person that matters. Falling into her like she is his one and only home.

He falls because he loves her.

He falls and falls over and over again because falling in love is easy.

Sometimes he just doesn't want to pick himself up.