He returned early, entering through the door of their shared apartment. Sighing once he shut the door, surrounded by the darkness in the hall. She heard him drawing closer into the living room/kitchen where she was with her laptop. A group of papers sat beside her on the brown couch with numerous rips that weren't made from them, but from its previous owner.

She glanced up at him as he walked by toward their bedroom. He then disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door. The shower was turned on, and she went back to typing up the reports for her work. She has some time before she would have to bring in her papers, and at first it didn't sit well with her superior. He was always glaring at her, bushy brows pinched, eyes empty of remorse, and his arms crossed over his chest.

"Not again," he demanded.

She told him it won't happen again. Papers ruined by coffee or the ink for the printer was all out. Some details that weren't because of her, but he found a way to blame her for all of it.

She didn't understand why he wanted papers anyway, she could send him the email for it, or maybe he wanted to make life harder for her. Not like anything she does entails her loss of control for the work she does.

The hum of the computer soothed her rapid thoughts, the dreary ones that involved her work. A firm, a cubicle nightmare of bright lights and tasteless air. The coffee wasn't even that good, and yet she was designed to stay in a small box with a computer in front of her. She hadn't gotten the attention from her superior until the coffee incident, and it's not like it was her fault.

Since then, he's been ruining her life with reports on the network system, including the droids functions, and the employs schedules. Those were quite difficult, but even that became a rhythm. Maybe it was all a test, but she handed them in as best she could. She was thinking maybe he was shredding them after she gave them to him, another show that he didn't care. Not like she was ever in the room to see him look over them, she wanted to pretend that he didn't see her.

Coffee Girl. Her colleagues chattered, snickering from corners and other cubicles, in the dull white halls and even in the bathroom stalls. It was all so unreasonable. She never actually got coffee for anyone, it was one accident that gave her the ridicule.

He left the bathroom and flicked the light off as he wandered in their bedroom before coming toward her. He moved her papers and sat down, looking at the screen with tired brown eyes.

"Again?" he asked.

"Again," she said.

"He's punishing you." He wrapped an arm around her waist and leaned against her, closing his eyes.

She frowned at the odd position of her arms and his weight. "It's only been two weeks."

"And two weeks is a lot of time to punish a single employee for spilled coffee."

He was right, and she was actually thinking of sending in a notice to his superior about this...harassment? Maybe they'll even agree with her. Although the meeting when the coffee was spilled was about the tech upgrade and transport. Five minutes before they could all stand up and leave, a man about in his early forties knocked over a cup. It wasn't her cup, it was the woman's next to him, and the coffee got all over the papers she had typed up the night before. Her name was soaked in brown liquid, and her superior didn't look at her the same way, not like he ever did beforehand.

She typed a bit more, picking up a piece of paper and looking over the list of the employs working at—

"Come to bed," he said into her side.

Her fingers stalled over the keyboard, and then she pressed enter. Was she satisfied. Probably not. It won't satisfy her superior either, but she was getting the hang of it, and maybe by next week, the torture of these reports can come to an end.

She closed her laptop and said, "Okay."

NOTES: This is a random story I thought of while listening to ambiance and being depressed. I don't expect much from this story, besides a glance over, but if you want to review it, and possibly appreciate it. Thanks. :)