.
He stood there opposite her, standing behind the defence bench, quite the eyesore in a bright red suit and his hair slicked back and showing off his rather large forehead. She didn't think much of him really, finding his loud voice irritating.
Then he called out the witness as a liar, cornering them over a twitch. A small thing, tiny even, the twitch of a muscle in the forehead like they were going to furrow their brow. He caught them as off guard as he caught her and it seemed there was merit in his words.
It had to be nonsense, and she objected. Surely such a twitch had nothing to do with the case. It was a trick of the defence. Her objection was sustained and she saw the way his hair wilted.
Then he did it again to another witness. This time the slight movement of a jaw absently biting on the witness's fingernail.
The witness jumped and looked at him, then at the prosecution. She objected but was overruled this time. The young judge was evidently interested. An inconvenience.
He did it in court when she met him again and every time thereafter. She never tried to stop him; she was too interested in figuring out how he did it. She could never see the tics he did no matter how hard she looked. She started watching him instead.
His bracelet seemed important to it. His hand would go to his wrist before asking them to repeat what they just said. Yet it didn't always seem to be the case. He still reacted on the very rare days when he wasn't wearing it.
She had to figure it out but no amount of research brought anything up. It was frustrating. She cornered him once after court, quite literally in a corner of the courthouse. She had one hand supporting her against the wall beside his neck, the other on his chest ensuring he stayed put. He was flustered, though she couldn't see why. She allowed her support to fall to the hand on his chest, curled around his tie and her whip, the other dropping to the wrist with his bracelet as she asked about it. He did his best to explain despite being oddly embarrassed. His eyes were fixed on hers and she noticed they were hazel, not brown like she'd thought. His answer didn't satisfy her and she stalked off. Perception? She'd get it out of him.
Yet what was funny was that she felt strange as she walked off from him. Cold.
It was probably because her body had been so close to his and now she wasn't.
Yet when she saw him again she felt something even more peculiar. Her face would get warm and she felt an odd sensation she didn't know how to describe in the pit of her stomach.
Maybe he made her sick?
The feeling did increase when she was closest to him and when she saw him laugh. He had to make her sick and had ever since they'd been close like that.
She made sure to stay clear of him when possible.
He caught her around the waist when she walked right into him in the pouring rain and slipped, drawing her to him for the briefest moment. He was just such a height her chin rested on his shoulder and she breathed in the mingled laundry detergent, hairspray, hair gel, shampoo, and cologne smell that was him. His body was as warm as his fragrance amidst the cold autumn air. He apologised and asked if she was all right.
She said yes without thinking, gazing at him with her lips parted and her face flushed. He smiled at her for the first time and picked up her umbrella. She felt her heart race when he looked at her and smiled like that.
Surely, he didn't make her literally sick?
She couldn't get him out of her head after that. Certainly it was because he was so annoying. This had to be the case. He annoyed her.
Then he caught her in a lie. She stood there, surprised. A hand went to the corner of her mouth where he'd seen the tic. Her tell. His hazel eyes were still on her lips as he talked. She turned her back on him and talked. Her heart was beating so fast she felt lightheaded and dizzy, and again she felt that strange flitter in her stomach. Her breathing was shallow too...
Was she... surely she wasn't afraid of him?
When he wasn't in court, she was disappointed. Of course she was; she loved giving him a good thrashing in court. She let the attorney she faced instead feel her wrath and aggravation at this. Seeing him standing there was what she liked. How was she to figure him out if she couldn't watch him?
She was much too close to him again. The lift was quite full and she was pressed up against the wall, the handrail in the small of her back, him being pushed against her by a burly prosecutor, a judge, and two attorneys. He had his hands on the rail to keep himself off her but to no avail. She could feel some electrical charge between them, one that was not at all unpleasant. Her eyes were drawn to his lips as he let the tip of his tongue lick them and he bit his lower lip, embarrassed. She quickly looked up into his eyes. His beautiful eyes were so striking and painfully honest. Too honest. She averted her gaze and her voice shook slightly and came out much more breathy than she intended as she told him to get off her. She swallowed hard, feeling very warm inside the lift all of a sudden and staying that way long after he got out.
She found him outside following a nightmare if a case, standing under a small edge of the roof as a guard from the rain- like her, he didn't want to be in the courthouse. He was lost in thought until he saw her. He had won but even he looked depressed at the outcome of the case. There was something about his frown she hated. They stood together under the small eave and talked as the rain came down. He looked so tired she noticed, his head against the wall of the building, his eyes on her. He was beautiful when he laughed at something she said. Her heart skipped a beat. She moved closer to him as the rain picked up to better make herself heard, her voice so much softer than his. He stood up to compensate as well when the rain grew thunderous and she was struck again by the fact that he was hardly taller than she was; almost shorter right now even, because she was wearing heels. She didn't mind in the slightest. He was talking to her but she wasn't listening. She was looking him over, noticing the way his hair was mussed from him running his hand through it constantly in court and the fact that it had gotten slightly wet standing outside. His fringe was in his face and she could see the faintest dusting of freckles across his already naturally tanned skin. His lips were what drew her again, watching him talk rather than listening and responding without paying attention. His lips were so interesting to her...
They were warm and soft against hers, and the feeling she got doing it was wonderful. Dizzying, electrifying... She was light-headed and she could feel such a strange, fluttering feeling... She liked this.
The contact was brief, but it felt longer. He was stunned by what she had done and she had not even registered what she'd done until she was in her car, at which point she felt herself go very red indeed and press her fingertips to her lips, her heart thundering in her chest and tears pricking her eyes out of nothing but from how hard she was blushing.
She never blushed. She also had never, ever kissed anyone.
They didn't talk about the kiss; like a silent, mutual agreement to pretend it hadn't happened. But she couldn't pretend it hadn't when the sensation was constantly on her mind and she could feel the ghost of his lips on hers.
She wanted to do it again.
He called her out on a lie in an investigation. They were the only ones standing on the snowy hill; the investigation was over for the day and the detectives were taking a short break. Leaving them alone. He caught her in a lie, his hazel eyes on her lips. He was standing close to her, letting one gloved hand graze the corner of her lips. She felt as if she'd missed a step going down stairs, her cheeks growing hot again and not from being caught lying by him. The winter was airless as he looked at her, holding her loosely in place with his fingers curled around her chin. He moved his hand to her cheek, his free hand going to the other side if her face. She swallowed nervously and gazed at him, her lips parted, feeling so much more of what she had before when so close to him. He pressed his mouth to hers, the feeling again warm and nerve-wracking and a feeling she couldn't get enough of. He kissed her for longer than she had kissed him, allowing her to let one hand to drift to his waist before slowly sliding up his back. Her other hand moved up his chest, her fingertips brushing his jaw before dropping to his shoulder in her daze.
She had no idea how long this lasted but when he finally pulled away, she swayed slightly, lost in the moment and thoroughly punch drunk, still holding him.
This was unnatural for her but she liked it. She liked it quite a lot, whatever this was. The feeling of being around him and kissing him. It felt... Good. And right. A fact that scared her. He was a defence attorney. She shouldn't enjoy this but she did. Quite a lot. But she shouldn't.
He kissed her again and her brain disengaged from that train of thought as she responded with enthusiasm to his lips.
Papa always told her how awful the defence was. She shouldn't be doing this.
One hand went to the small of her back, his thumb stroking her gently, the other staying cupped around her cheek.
Papa would hate this. Papa would be mad at her. The defence was full of liars and cheats and people who fought for guilty people. Papa would surely disown her if he knew...
She stepped closer against his warm body, her arms around his chest, loving every second and wanting to be as close as she could manage.
This was wrong... It went against everything she'd been raised to think but oh, it was bliss...
She buried her face in his shoulder, breathing heavily and inhaling that intoxicating fragrance. She could feel him breathing just as hard, his breath ruffling her silvery tresses and his chest heaving against hers.
She made a mental note to try and breathe when she was kissing him.
She broke away as she heard the detectives returning. None of them saw anything.
If nobody saw them, then it was okay. She could do this. There was no need to worry. If nobody knew... Then it was okay to kiss him. To feel this way as long as nobody knew. It wouldn't be wrong. It wouldn't be right but right and good would be the only things left to feel when it didn't feel wrong.
Right?