Yep. I'm back.
I apologize for my crappy writing.
As he turned to face the class, the realization hit.
She swore she could hear her heart hammering in her chest when their eyes met.
He looked at her, completely and utterly terrified and the words slipped from his mouth unintended. "Oh holy crap."
She looked at his hands – those same hands that had lifted her onto the counter in the bathroom, those hands that had grazed her thighs, her hips, her face… then that mouth – the mouth that had so passionately kissed her, the mouth the seemed to fit perfectly with hers…
Aria felt sick. Which sick twist of fate had decided that Ezra – the guy from the bar, the guy she exchanged numbers with, the guy she had made out with in the bathroom at some seedy bar – her English teacher. With her heart pounding in her chest, she attempted, without much luck, to swallow the suffocating lump in her throat.
"Sorry." She said quickly, quietly in an unsteady voice, and with trembling fingers pressed the button on her phone to open the message.
Her eyes widened, and her mouth formed the words that her mind was repeating. No. no. no. no. Please no. She forced her eyes away from the message, lifting her face up reluctantly to look at him, scrutinizing his face.
She was scared.
And he looked pretty terrified too.
Wet. Dreary. Windy.
The prospect of walking home in that weather wasn't all that endearing.
Tentatively, she forced her foot over the threshold, and exited the café, into the rain.
Her footsteps were quick, her head was down as she half ran, half walked down the pavement.
She glanced behind her as she heard the sound of a car, and the face peering out of the window at her was enough to make her forget the weather and come to an abrupt halt. He drove on – of course her would, she scolded herself as his own words echoed in her head. We can't do this, Aria. I'm your teacher. Why should she expect him to risk anything – no, everything: his job, his reputation - for her?
And then, just as she braced herself to continue walking, somewhere up the road Ezra's car stopped. The door swung open.
He was inviting her in…
Her legs seemed to have a mind of their own as they steered her toward the car. In silence, without so much as a greeting, he drove on, a little further up the road. She was tense, unsure of how to act, or what to say, or if she should speak at all.
Turning the face him as the car stopped again, their eyes met.
He didn't need to say anything. Neither did she.
Feelings were expressed better than they could be with words as his lips crashed down on hers, their mouths fitting together as perfectly as when they had first met.
For once in a long time, she felt whole. She felt right.
But this was so wrong.
He'd denied her the last time she turned up on his doorstep.
But what had happened in the car seemed to form some mutual agreement, as when she tapped on his door, he stepped aside, granting her entrance.
In one fluid motion, the door was shut; his arms were around her waist, then caressing her face, and then fervently placing soft kisses on her lips. She gripped onto him, as if her life relied on it. She realized she was crying, but the tears were kissed away gently by him, as his own spilled onto her face.
It was too much for both of them. It was too much to let go. They needed this, they needed each other.
If right was staying away, then they'd rather be wrong.