A part of Annaliese's complex charisma

relies on the undercurrent of despair in her voice:

the same emotion she tries to smother

yet somehow, it still bubbles from her chest

to arise from her throat

and she can barely control herself.

A bark here, and a snarl there

fueled by the anger Annaliese held up in court,

saturated with earthy reds and rich gold and bleak grays,

backed up by the fiery depths of the hole where her heart should've been,

create the intricate portrait

of the lioness woman - - -

ferocious and fearful

prideful and petty

vulnerable and vigilant - - -

who shows her true conniving colors

when it best suits her needs.

Loneliness grabs her by the shoulders

and it shakes her

but she does not let vertigo overcome her

because she can rise above it

like a legendary phoenix

(she makes it look easy,

with the kind of poised, guarded grace

reserved for supermodels,

trained to look beautiful).

Annaliese's looks were a construct,

a fact she made obvious by the way she carries herself,

to fool all who succumbed to her magnetism

into believing her purity.

She met her match in Cal Lightman,

and the sparks flew

when he sauntered onto campus of Middleton Law

as a guest speaker - - -

everyone in a two mile radius of their

initial meeting, an intense showdown

where their eyes met

and they stared in such a deep way,

everyone who walked by

couldn't help but be mesmerized by how they

mirrored each other,

acting like predators trying to stalk their prey.

The tableau in which they stood, firing questions at each other;

their ferocity, their tense scoping out of each other - - -

frightening yet beautiful in its chilling severity - - -

was thick enough to be cut with a knife.

Not one of the students

questioned their meeting,

because it seemed like Annaliese's

isolated iciness could finally thaw.

Cal burned bright like the sun,

A golden heat radiating

from his very existence

which clashed royally

with Annaliese's ice;

she flinched every time

Cal opened his mouth

to pose a question

that sounded harmless

to the untrained ear

but they hit a nerve

that got Annaliese spinning, reeling, afraid- - -

she couldn't breathe, as if the wind

had been knocked out of her very lungs.

She scurried away to teach her next class,

but Cal followed like a smug puppy with an agenda to push.

Annaliese ignored him with the furor

of a guilty congressman trying to hide a scandal.

Cal overstayed his welcome,

even after his numerous guest lectures

spread out over the days

had ended;

Annaliese's group
(Wes, Connor,

Laurel, Michaela,

even Asher,

saw it coming

from a few miles away)

could pinpoint the exact moment of

her impending breakdown

down to the second,

Annaliese's subtlety

melted away in his presence,

and she was so thrown off course

that her compass was affected even after classes,

a rare feat;

she was smothered by his accent

and falling apart with his biting remarks

that she could weakly fight against.

Away from prying, watchful eyes

Annaliese begged the question:

"What could you possibly want from me?"

Cal smirked, "Forgiveness."

There was something in Annaliese's eyes - - -

a flickering of emotion,

and Cal's assured that it's fear and ferocity

all mixed together

by the way her lips twitched

and the way her shoulders tensed after setting them into place,

defiance coloring her posture- - -

that said everything Cal needed to know.

"I'll come back when you're in a better mood;

I don't give up on getting the forgiveness I deserve."

Annaliese fired back, "I don't give forgiveness out very easily"

and Cal's face said that he accepted the challenge.