She ran a finger along the edge of his desk, concentrating on the
intricately carved curves and bumps. This was an old trick. By
focusing on the motion of her hand, the conscious mind was distracted
just enough to maintain her normally cool exterior. The nervous panic
she felt welling up inside would not be noticed by any exterior party. Just sitting on this side of a professor's desk brought back memories. She felt like the miscreant student of her youth, not the responsible, collected woman she had grown to become.
"Well?" He said, leaning forward, "What can I do for you?" His eyes
surveyed her coolly, his face a very carefully constructed mask of
apathy. He was playing a game that she had often engaged in herself.
By keeping his thoughts hidden, he had the upper hand. At least for
the time being.
"I...I felt like I needed to speak with you privately,"she said softly,
eyes in her lap. Having exhausted the edge of the desk, she removed
her glasses and folded them carefully, rubbing the frames gently for
reassurance. "There are some things that I feel haven't been dealt
with quite honestly between us and if we're going to continue as
colleagues they should be worked out before it's too late."
"Very well," he said, "I can't pretend that I haven't noticed the way
things have been lately. In addition to our differences there has been
an underlying tension. Something I can't quite explain." He stood up
and moved partially into the shadows created by the fire blazing in the
corner of the room. His voice softened slightly as he said, "I don't
know why you've taken such a personal interest in me. You don't seem
to posses the same loathing and mistrust that the others do. Why do
you make life more difficult for yourself than it has to be by
defending me? I don't need to be defended by anyone. I am who I am
and I see no need to be apologetic to the others for it."
"I know," she said, "But you know that I am not the kind of person who
keeps my opinions to myself. I cannot stand ignorance and idle gossip.
People who have nothing better to do with their time than rabbit on
about people and things, neither of which they have a clue about."
He raised his head slightly, "And you feel you do," his expression was
unreadable. "You feel that you have an insight about me that others do
not?"
"Yes," she said, "I believe I've gathered more about you than you
realize."
He knotted his brow. "You should never make assumptions about things
you don't understand."
Her hands had become cold and clammy. Pocketing her now damp glasses
she stood and moved towards the center of the room. Her eyes were
fixed on the hypnotic movement of the flames in the grate. "That's
where you're wrong. I never assume anything about people, I observe
people who interest me very closely, I draw certain ideas about them
from their behavior but I keep my mind open until they confirm my
impressions."
"Really and what exactly is it that you've decided about me?" he asked,
eyes flashing.
She felt her nerves building. Revealing her innermost feelings about
him so quickly was not something she had intended to do. Drawing a
deep breath, she forced the knot of emotion in her throat down. "I
didn't mean to offend you or imply that you are transparent in any way.
It's just that I've felt a connection to you since we first met that
I really can't explain." She fixed him with an even gaze, "I feel
like we handle things in a very similar manner. I think that we've
been through more difficult circumstances than most. We've struggled
through countless rejections and disappointments and have been forced
to rise above disillusionment with things that once seemed so certain." She felt a slow flush beginning to rise in her cheeks. "I think we feel things in a far deeper manner than most and as a result we are very guarded about who we let in. When we're actually foolish enough to let someone hurt us, we suffer exquisite agony. Over the years we've gone on living what seems like very normal lives to those around us which is fine because we don't like to be scrutinized. We keep people at a distance because it makes us feel safe but in return for this we are deeply lonely."
He straightened as if surprised by her words, crossing his arms slowly
over his chest. She watched him in profile as his lips moved into a
pensive expression. After a pause he turned towards her, moving into
the light. "You are as observant as ever and quite right on every
count. But then again it is easier to recognize your own traits when
they appear in others. We are very similar, you know. You use a
stern demeanor because it makes you feel safe. I have taken the more
abrasive route. By nature we keep others at a distance, but we can see
through each other. In spite of myself, I trust you and I value your
opinions. You are the only person I feel comfortable with. Right now
I'm sensing you came to see me tonight for another reason. I can't
say I didn't think you would, but I also can't say I'm not glad you
have."
Realizing that it was now or never gave her newfound courage. She
faced him and gathered her thoughts.
"I wanted to let you know that since I've become aware of our
connection, I've been taking foolish risks. In spite of my efforts
the walls that I've built with so much care over the years are
beginning to crumble and I feel powerless to stop it. The part of me
that craves security is begging you to tell me that I've read you
wrong and that you don't feel as strongly as I do."
"What about the other part of you?" he asked, his voice almost in
a whisper.
"It wants more than anything for you to feel the same way."
She raised her gaze to his eyes, hoping he was grasping the depth of
her feelings. His face bared no traces of emotion, but his eyes;
those eyes that often flashed as hard as flint were soft. He moved
cautiously towards her, the firelight dancing on his features. He
reached out and took her hand in his. His touch was gentle, but firm
as he raised the tips of her fingers to his lips. It was the softest
of kisses and she felt warmth radiating up her arm, making her heart
pound. With her free hand she caressed his cheek, moving his soft,
raven hair aside. His eyes closed and he drew her close, resting her
head on his shoulder.
With his lips close to her ear and in a voice only she could discern
he said, "I feel the same way." He raised a hand and deftly freed her
hair from the tight bun that usually held it. Hair cascaded over her
shoulders and he ran his fingers through its waves. "What I feel is
far too strong to fight and to be honest I don't want to." He slid
his fingers under her chin, raising it gently. Her face was glowing
with anticipation as she ran her fingertips up and down his spine. He
leaned in slowly, his lips grazing hers every so lightly at first,
then pressing more firmly as his confidence grew. She felt a powerful
release of emotion that pushed her further into his arms. His heart
was pounding madly; threatening to escape from the very body that
enclosed it.
As their kisses reached a feverish pitch, somewhere in the distance
she thought she heard chimes. It sounded almost like the giggle of
fairies, something too lovely to be concerned with. As their lips
separated, he held her face close to his, gazing deeply into her eyes.
With the spell momentarily broken, she realized that the chimes were
coming from a small, brass clock on the mantelpiece.
"Midnight," she gasped. "Our rounds...we seem to have forgotten our
rounds."
He smiled, both amused and charmed at the same time. "Unfortunately
duty is calling for both of us..."
She stood back taking his hands in hers. "Of course. I can't say I'm
thrilled about ending our evening. Will we get together again?"
He kissed her again lightly, "I'd like that very much. How's tomorrow?
Same time, same place?"
She began twisting her hair back into place as she moved reluctantly
towards the door, "I'll be here. Till then..."
intricately carved curves and bumps. This was an old trick. By
focusing on the motion of her hand, the conscious mind was distracted
just enough to maintain her normally cool exterior. The nervous panic
she felt welling up inside would not be noticed by any exterior party. Just sitting on this side of a professor's desk brought back memories. She felt like the miscreant student of her youth, not the responsible, collected woman she had grown to become.
"Well?" He said, leaning forward, "What can I do for you?" His eyes
surveyed her coolly, his face a very carefully constructed mask of
apathy. He was playing a game that she had often engaged in herself.
By keeping his thoughts hidden, he had the upper hand. At least for
the time being.
"I...I felt like I needed to speak with you privately,"she said softly,
eyes in her lap. Having exhausted the edge of the desk, she removed
her glasses and folded them carefully, rubbing the frames gently for
reassurance. "There are some things that I feel haven't been dealt
with quite honestly between us and if we're going to continue as
colleagues they should be worked out before it's too late."
"Very well," he said, "I can't pretend that I haven't noticed the way
things have been lately. In addition to our differences there has been
an underlying tension. Something I can't quite explain." He stood up
and moved partially into the shadows created by the fire blazing in the
corner of the room. His voice softened slightly as he said, "I don't
know why you've taken such a personal interest in me. You don't seem
to posses the same loathing and mistrust that the others do. Why do
you make life more difficult for yourself than it has to be by
defending me? I don't need to be defended by anyone. I am who I am
and I see no need to be apologetic to the others for it."
"I know," she said, "But you know that I am not the kind of person who
keeps my opinions to myself. I cannot stand ignorance and idle gossip.
People who have nothing better to do with their time than rabbit on
about people and things, neither of which they have a clue about."
He raised his head slightly, "And you feel you do," his expression was
unreadable. "You feel that you have an insight about me that others do
not?"
"Yes," she said, "I believe I've gathered more about you than you
realize."
He knotted his brow. "You should never make assumptions about things
you don't understand."
Her hands had become cold and clammy. Pocketing her now damp glasses
she stood and moved towards the center of the room. Her eyes were
fixed on the hypnotic movement of the flames in the grate. "That's
where you're wrong. I never assume anything about people, I observe
people who interest me very closely, I draw certain ideas about them
from their behavior but I keep my mind open until they confirm my
impressions."
"Really and what exactly is it that you've decided about me?" he asked,
eyes flashing.
She felt her nerves building. Revealing her innermost feelings about
him so quickly was not something she had intended to do. Drawing a
deep breath, she forced the knot of emotion in her throat down. "I
didn't mean to offend you or imply that you are transparent in any way.
It's just that I've felt a connection to you since we first met that
I really can't explain." She fixed him with an even gaze, "I feel
like we handle things in a very similar manner. I think that we've
been through more difficult circumstances than most. We've struggled
through countless rejections and disappointments and have been forced
to rise above disillusionment with things that once seemed so certain." She felt a slow flush beginning to rise in her cheeks. "I think we feel things in a far deeper manner than most and as a result we are very guarded about who we let in. When we're actually foolish enough to let someone hurt us, we suffer exquisite agony. Over the years we've gone on living what seems like very normal lives to those around us which is fine because we don't like to be scrutinized. We keep people at a distance because it makes us feel safe but in return for this we are deeply lonely."
He straightened as if surprised by her words, crossing his arms slowly
over his chest. She watched him in profile as his lips moved into a
pensive expression. After a pause he turned towards her, moving into
the light. "You are as observant as ever and quite right on every
count. But then again it is easier to recognize your own traits when
they appear in others. We are very similar, you know. You use a
stern demeanor because it makes you feel safe. I have taken the more
abrasive route. By nature we keep others at a distance, but we can see
through each other. In spite of myself, I trust you and I value your
opinions. You are the only person I feel comfortable with. Right now
I'm sensing you came to see me tonight for another reason. I can't
say I didn't think you would, but I also can't say I'm not glad you
have."
Realizing that it was now or never gave her newfound courage. She
faced him and gathered her thoughts.
"I wanted to let you know that since I've become aware of our
connection, I've been taking foolish risks. In spite of my efforts
the walls that I've built with so much care over the years are
beginning to crumble and I feel powerless to stop it. The part of me
that craves security is begging you to tell me that I've read you
wrong and that you don't feel as strongly as I do."
"What about the other part of you?" he asked, his voice almost in
a whisper.
"It wants more than anything for you to feel the same way."
She raised her gaze to his eyes, hoping he was grasping the depth of
her feelings. His face bared no traces of emotion, but his eyes;
those eyes that often flashed as hard as flint were soft. He moved
cautiously towards her, the firelight dancing on his features. He
reached out and took her hand in his. His touch was gentle, but firm
as he raised the tips of her fingers to his lips. It was the softest
of kisses and she felt warmth radiating up her arm, making her heart
pound. With her free hand she caressed his cheek, moving his soft,
raven hair aside. His eyes closed and he drew her close, resting her
head on his shoulder.
With his lips close to her ear and in a voice only she could discern
he said, "I feel the same way." He raised a hand and deftly freed her
hair from the tight bun that usually held it. Hair cascaded over her
shoulders and he ran his fingers through its waves. "What I feel is
far too strong to fight and to be honest I don't want to." He slid
his fingers under her chin, raising it gently. Her face was glowing
with anticipation as she ran her fingertips up and down his spine. He
leaned in slowly, his lips grazing hers every so lightly at first,
then pressing more firmly as his confidence grew. She felt a powerful
release of emotion that pushed her further into his arms. His heart
was pounding madly; threatening to escape from the very body that
enclosed it.
As their kisses reached a feverish pitch, somewhere in the distance
she thought she heard chimes. It sounded almost like the giggle of
fairies, something too lovely to be concerned with. As their lips
separated, he held her face close to his, gazing deeply into her eyes.
With the spell momentarily broken, she realized that the chimes were
coming from a small, brass clock on the mantelpiece.
"Midnight," she gasped. "Our rounds...we seem to have forgotten our
rounds."
He smiled, both amused and charmed at the same time. "Unfortunately
duty is calling for both of us..."
She stood back taking his hands in hers. "Of course. I can't say I'm
thrilled about ending our evening. Will we get together again?"
He kissed her again lightly, "I'd like that very much. How's tomorrow?
Same time, same place?"
She began twisting her hair back into place as she moved reluctantly
towards the door, "I'll be here. Till then..."