His voice. That was all it took for me to choose him.
He didn’t speak in a low, gravelly tone as one would expect a Hollywood perfect bad boy to, nor did he stutter and squeak. Instead, he had rich, fruity voice. Normally, I would never use the term ‘fruity’ to describe anything, but the sounds that escaped his lips called only for that word. Deep and strong in the most pleasant way possible. Not too low, not too high, and every word was spoken with confidence.
Everything about the voice was making me wonder what this man could look like. His voice commanded little attention yet brought a lot through the sweet lull of his words, and I started imagining a possible person behind the voice. Dark eyes? Dark hair? Kind? My thoughts escaped as I relaxed back into my chair, listening once more.
His voice was mellow, in the best way possible. At this point, I wasn’t actually reading off the script I had assigned, simply daydreaming as his words filled my ears. At the same time, his voice was rich, enchanting me with a melody of my own words, casting a golden web of honey over my thoughts. I loved his voice.
“I don’t like him.” Haneul, my one and only literary agent, carefully extracted the file out of my hands and tossed it to the side, along with all the other clear cased files. I winced as his raspier voice snapped the honey snare on my thoughts, and I jumped, waking from that reverie.
I scrambled for the file, snatching it up in the air triumphantly as I shook my head at him. In other words, I was on top of my desk on my hands and knees, dangling a folder over my head in victory.
“I love his voice.” I smiled, practically cradling the folder in my arms. It was his resume inside that sheet of plastic, and it was precious. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much on it, which meant he stood a lower chance to the others.
Haneul stared at me, clearly still not used to my strange antics despite having worked alongside me for three years now. The audio clip was still playing, and I grinned, listening to his voice as I tumbled back down on my seat. He reached over to his laptop and paused the clip, making me sigh in disappointment.
“He’s clearly a beginner. He can’t maintain a solid presence, and he doesn’t breathe life into the work.” Haneul had an irregular twitch in his right eye when he was frustrated and ready to put up a good fight, and that was all my eyes were drawn to as his words stabbed at the insecurity within my somewhat saner thoughts. However, it was three in the morning, meaning my saner thoughts might as well have been in a different person, since they were no longer my own.
“But his voice…” I sighed dreamily, still staring at the twitch. “And he’s good at articulating, and his accents are great. He sounds enthusiastic too.”
“That doesn’t mean anything, Charlotte, and you know it.” I grimaced, instantly distracted from what he was saying. He droned on about how this guy was inconsistent and dull compared to the other possible candidates, and he was trying to shake some sense into my head. Not happening. Everything went through one ear and escaped through the other.
I looked away, staring down at the bright yellow rug that had a very distinctive coffee stain from about two and a half hours back. Coffee was awful, but I wasn’t the addict – Haneul was. He was insanely in love with that awfully bitter flavor that kept him awake, and that seemed to be the only thing he loved considering he was thirty-three and hadn’t had a girlfriend for over three years. Almost every day, I told him I loved him, but all I ever got as a response was a general grunt in my direction.
I didn’t even realize I was pouting until he poked my protruding lower lip.
“What is it?” He sighed. I’d gotten used to the way he spoke to me, the same way one would speak to a problematic child – which I knew I could act like when I had my reasons – but that didn’t mean I liked it. My eyes were glued to the canary yellow wall behind his head, keeping up my stubborn act childishly.
“I hate being called Charlotte.” He sighed, the fight escaping him as he realized he’d upset me. I’d reached a point beyond reconciliation, and he knew it.
“Fine, Lottie. He’ll pass the first stage of the interview, and he’ll come in for the second.” Haneul gently plucked the file out of my grasp and placed it on a much smaller and neater pile. A huge grin spread across my cheeks as I hug-tackled him, getting to my feet and jumping on top of him.
“Thanks, Haneul! I love you so much!” He let out a loud groan, trying to shove me off, but I ignored him, planting a solid kiss on his cheek.
“You’re heavy, Lottie.” Once again, he threw away my affection in his own way of showing his embarrassment, but that didn’t deter the smile on my face. Haneul was tall and large, making him very comfortable to cuddle up to, and he somehow always smelt pretty darn good; unfortunately, one down side was that he smelled like coffee, that nauseating drink. Still, he also smelled like chocolate, a scent that somehow made me sleepy.
He stopped trying to push me off as I held onto him like a koala, snuggling him as my eyes struggled to keep open. Everything about my behavior jumped from one end to another at all times, but it was worse right now because it was three in the morning. I was exhausted, especially considering I normally slept at nine in the evening.
“Just thirty minutes, Haneul. Goodnight…” My words dribbled out in a murmur as sleep lulled me away, coaxing me away from consciousness.