The last week of November had come sooner than expected. Arya had struggled, but she had managed to shut her mind and not spend her entire days imagining unrealistic plots of how this trip would go. And Jon had barely been home reminding her that he had a girlfriend so she had kept the break-downs to a minimal number. She was pretty proud of herself. Expect nothing, we'll make it up as we go, she often repeated to herself not to get disappointed. What would there be to expect anyway? She would just spend a few days in Germany, work with a troop, visit a bit, come back. That's all. Don't dream.

Now they were waiting in the airport. He had briefly introduced her to his colleagues, an old man with not much hair left on his scalp and a gentle smile, and two guys approximatively the same age than him whose names she did not remember. The book club constituted of a middle aged woman whose name was Lana and a few students Arya knew went to the same school that she did but to whom she had never spoken to. But they had not stayed with the other group, apparently they were not booking at the same place that mister H'ghar and her were and they had not had a single minute to chat. That was perfect. Arya had been in no mood to chat. It was 4am and all she wanted to do was curl up somewhere warm and go back to sleep. In his arms would be a most perfect spot. She did not find the strength to admonish herself for that wish. Her eyes lingered on him by their own will for long minutes, her mind made up scenarios of how and why he'd take her in his arms right here right now and there was no one in her head to tell her that she was crazy. The reasonable Arya was still asleep, and it was so appeasing.

She heard a woman's voice from a far saying that VIP's could start to get in the plane. She felt a light tug on her sleeve, met his eyes seemingly amused to see her so tired. She kind of felt like a child in this huge airport, trailing behind him.

"We're VIP's?", she managed to ask in a voice rusty from sleep.

"A man and a girl are in business class."

Oh

Nice, was all her mind managed to think.

Nice indeed. Once on the plane she toyed with her seat. The thing was electric and could move from sitting position to bed position. Marvellous. She had never been on business class before, so it was all exciting, and despite the tiredness she managed to explore every option offered to her. She went back to sitting position, a smile tugging at her lips. And she was next to him. Oh- how well it all started. She would not have liked being next to a stranger, somehow she felt reassured that he was near. Now the steward was done with his welcomings and his explanations and they were about to take off. She turned her sleepy eyes to him to ask him how it was that the theatre club had such opportunities, but her eyes locked on a strange glimpse in his bronze irises.

He stared at her, and there was something in his gaze that seemed almost… nervous. What was wrong with him? The golden tone of his skin was suddenly paler than usual. There was something odd in his face too, Arya was not able to pinpoint what exactly, his eyes were the same and the smirk was still there, but she sensed it. Was he afraid of the plane? Or was he regretting his decision to take her with him?

"Are you alright?", she asked, and she suddenly felt the urge to take his hand in hers but she brushed it away, thinking that it would be stupid and awkward.

"Yes.", he purred, back to his normal, arrogant state. Maybe he was just tired too.

"Waldorf Astoria Hotel, bitte.", he spoke in German.

The ride to the hotel was quite short, and Arya noticed she couldn't understand a single word that the stereo outed. It all sounded like a harsh and low grumble to her ears. She watched the empty streets pass. It was 6am, people were only waking up. The hotel was huge. After letting him check in they rode the elevator to the seventh floor. He gave her the key-card to unlock her room and left her, telling her she should be ready for 8am to attend the first general repetition.

"Oh wow…"

That was the biggest hotel room she had ever been in. It looked even bigger than their living room in the LA flat. She felt dizzy from the nine hours long flight, but she needed to explore first before throwing herself on that King size bed. What an incredible view! From there it looked like Berlin was spread and alive underneath her. The streets were still lit up, and the sky of rose and gold and rich orange looked like it was taken right out of an Instagram picture. She inspected the mini bar, the flat screen of the TV, there was even a coffee machine! She looked in all the drawers, the huge commode, the dresser, who ever needed this much space?

Alright, that had been enough exploration. She jumped on the huge bed and hugged one of the many fluffy pillows tight. She still felt tired despite the amazing plane ride, she felt that her eyelids were heavier and she was colder than usual.

A shower would be nice to freshen up. She kicked her boots away and lifted her little suitcase on the tremendously large bed. By the way it sank in the mattress, she figured she would probably have the best nights of sleep in her entire life here. Like, really, this hotel was the most luxurious she ever set foot in. How did the school have enough money to afford this when their theatre classroom was some dusty old basement room with scruffy curtains and wobbly chairs?

She made a quick tour of her suite again (a suite!), unfolded the robe laying on the bed, which was enormous compared to her small frame but Arya was used to that, and headed towards the bathroom. And Oh- a shower in this will be so nice. It was an Italian shower, and it had freaking jets. Arya had never tried that before, but damn, she was definitely settled on spending the next hour toying with it. She looked at her phone. 6:32am. Great. She had an hour and a half before meeting again with Mr. H'ghar.

She unpacked her bag and took out her beauty pouch (well, the term 'beauty pouch' was a bit exaggerated, it only contained her toothbrush, a chap-stick and a tube of mascara she had had for an eternity). But when she was ready to step in he huge bathroom something shiny caught her attention. She lifted her not so neatly folded sweat-shirt from the suitcase and took a look at the small silver squares that she did not remember placing there. Was it… foil? And something was inside, at first she thought about some of San's weird beauty products, like some kind of travel make up remover or something. She took one out. She was quite tired, that's why it took her three long seconds to realize that these were-

"Oh God Sansa!"

Condoms?! Really?!

Stupid Sansa!, she kept cursing in her head during her long shower.

"Wer ist das?", a woman with short, blonde hair asked with a cold look on her face. According to the din of the question, she must have asked who she was, and according to the disdainful tone, she must have not been very pleased to see her. So Arya decided that she did not like that chick. Her severe gaze on her indicated that the hate was already mutual.

"I'm Arya.", she only got a more disdainful look in exchange.

She breathed in and suddenly felt like a stranger whose place was not here. But Mr. H'ghar's smile reassured her, and she raised her chin to look more self-assured.

"Meine Studentin. Ich dachte sie könnte ein Ding oder zwei von der Trupp lernen.", he smirked, and that seemed to infuriate the woman. She angrily took his sleeve between two fingers and her eyes were like daggers she was throwing at him, but it did not look like he felt threatened the slightest bit.

"Dies ist keine Platz für deine Spielsachen.", she began spitting at him, and Arya cursed in her head. Damn it-why did she study French in elementary school?! She could not understand a single word!

And she cursed again, feeling her cheeks blush. Were they beginning to fight? Oh God no please, they had only arrived, she did not want to look for a place to hide right away. Why must she always find herself in such embarrassing situations? And what could she do? She did not know a word of German, and she was there between these two like a mouse between a cat's fight. She stared awkwardly at the floor while the woman's voice kept raising in this passive-aggressive tone that quickly became fully aggressive, wondering what else she could do and desperately trying to figure out what she was saying.

"Hast du unseres Ziel vergessen? Ich habe was anders zu tun als von deinen kleinen Schlampen geärgert zu werden-"

"Genug.", he outed, voice stern and cold. The woman stopped, Arya felt a shiver run down her at how thrilling he sounded. That might have meant stop it or shut up. And this was maybe the first time she saw him angry, yet she could not understand why. And it was a strange anger, cold and controlled. Had she insulted him? Why did the woman sound so exasperated? Was she not supposed to be here?

"Ach du-", her eyes lingered on Arya and travelled from head to foot as if examining her, and that made her very uncomfortable.

"Wie alt ist sie, zwölf?!"

She shot him a stare full of both mockery and fury and her little eyes narrowed.

"Hier in Deutschland gibts auch kleine Mädchen, weisst du? Du brauchtest nicht dein eigenes mitzubringen."

He raised a brow at her, half annoyed and half stunned."Neidisch?"

Now it looked as if he had insulted her.

The conversation evolved into what looked like a lover's riot and if Arya had bent her head any lower she might have sunk into the ground. She fought the urge to shout that she was still here for she kind of dreaded their reaction if she intervened. And moreover she did not know who that woman was. Fuck- could she be, like, his wife or something, admonishing him because she thought she was his mistress? No, no that could not be. I look nothing like a woman someone would take as a mistress, I look like a lost child.

Damn it- it had been a bad idea, all of it, she suddenly started to regret. Why the hell did she accept to come here with him? It was the other end of the world, she could not escape because she would not know where to go, and he was practically a stranger.

And…could that angry woman be his girlfriend? Or someone important to him? According to the way they fought right now it did not look like they were getting along wonderfully well these days but it definitely seemed like they knew each other better than she knew him.

"Sie ist ein Manns Studentin. Der Rest ist keine deiner Sorgen.", he ended it, and his voice remained calm despite the woman's provocations (or supposed provocations, according to the tone of her voice, Arya did not understand a single word of it). However it was enough for her to shut up and walk away angrily.

"A man apologizes.", he bowed his head slightly when she was gone, turning his attention back over to her.

"What was that about?"

He sighed.

"A friend does not like newcomers."

He sounded honest, but Arya ticked at the word Friend. Was she just a friend? She was definitely pretty, so it would have been no surprise if- God, why did she wonder about that right now?! She could be anyone to him, she didn't care! Or at least that was what she repeated in her mind to try to convince herself. Why should she care anyway? He was just her teacher and they were just on some kind of scholar trip.

It turned out she did not get a single peek at the play from the backstage. She could only hear voices from time to time, but mostly she spent the morning being pushed out of the way by light engineers or curtain-guys or whoever looked like they had something much more important to do than she did.

The repetition had been long and boring, she ate a sandwich for noon and on the afternoon the play had been long and boring, and in-between she had not been able to escape this place and this damn woman with her freaking murderous gaze. Like, truly, what did that chick have against her? She was a lost little girl far from home hiding in her teacher's shadow in there, about what could she hold a grudge against her?

Anyway. He had told her that this would be a long day, she had been somewhat prepared not to feel in the best shape. But she was glad. She looked at the clock. 6:57pm. The second part of play would be almost over. That meant typical German dish on the way back to the hotel and then testing out this King sized bed and spend a wonderful night not thinking about this woman until the next day. Ugh- luckily the plays were only on the evenings and there would be no more long repetitions like the previous one, that meant she would not see her that often.

She heard the claps, and twenty minutes later the director's voice, probably calling for the end. Arya had not fully understood, but in between his scenes Mr. H'ghar had explained her that the play was about some mystery game where a woman had to solve an enigma, and he held the role of some guard supposed to kill whoever the protagonist (who was played by that annoying blonde) asked for him to kill in order to solve the mystery.

But Thank God, the day was over.

"How about 10?", he asked, looking at his almost empty plate. The restaurant was not very crowded and casual-ish, just like she liked them.

Oh, perfect.

If they met at ten in the morning downstairs that meant she could wake up at 9:30. Even 9:45 if she hurried in the shower. They would visit Berlin a bit after that, he promised her he'd show her a new building everyday during their short week, starting with the Olympiastadion and then the Wall. On the afternoon he said they had to help with the organization of the play, and that she would have to assist to a lesson or two that he gave here. She would agree to anything if that meant staying away from the angry woman until the evening. Ah- a pretty sweet week was shaping itself.

"This way a man can repay you a bit for all these Saturday mornings he did not let you sleep in.", he added with a smirk.

"How do you know I usually sleep in?", she asked, frowning but amused, taking a sip at her soda can.

"A girl does grimace not so discretely when she is unhappy.", he mocked her.

"What? No I don't!"

He kept grinning at the sight of her and she realized she was doing it right now. She groaned and concentrated on her meal. Why was all the fuss about these curry sausages? They really didn't have anything that amazing to them. Anyway. She'd try something else tomorrow. He had promised he'd take her in a different restaurant too every evening.

That would really be a cool vacation.

Everyday went the same for five days straight. Meeting up at ten in the morning, visiting something, eating a sandwich for lunch while heading to the theatre school, rehearsing for the show and then performing on the evening. The angry woman grew colder and more distant every day but Arya paid her no attention. She had better to do than to worry about her. And she didn't seem to care about her, she never bothered her, so Arya didn't bother her either even though her tongue burned to ask her what her problem was.

She learned a little bit more about him. Well, she made observations. He was not fond of chatting about stupid stuff like the weather or sports. Their conversations were often centred around her childhood, or theatre and it's psychological aspect. One evening they even had a very interesting debate about self-discipline. That was the moment she learnt the most about him. He never revealed anything about his past, she knew nothing about his life here in Germany nor the school he went to as a child or if he was close with his family, but she had understood that he was very hard on himself, that the self-assured attitude was sometimes a result of his urge to control (kind of like Sansa, but not exactly) and, she had not fully understood it yet, but she knew he had a very deep and psychological understanding of life.

He was like a riddle. During each conversation she felt like she was solving the mystery, only to realize minutes later that there was a whole other level of personality that she didn't know about him.

All of that had only made him more dangerously interesting for a teacher with whom she was supposed to keep a rather detached relationship. But she had ignored the little voice in her head whispering that she was learning too much.

She was on holidays after all, and, unlike him, she was not that strict with herself. She did not always listen to the reasonable voice.

And eventually, the last evening came.

A knock on the door.

"Oh, uh-I'm not ready yet, didn't you say-"

"The play was annulled, lovely girl."

A strange look was on his face. Again, she couldn't place what exactly was stranger than usual, but she knew there was something. That afternoon had not went like the other ones. On that day, after his lesson, instead of going to the rehearsal he had said they had to head back to the hotel to deal with a few matters before the show. Arya had figured he wanted to check out and deal with organization and everything instead of doing it in a rush when the play was over, for their plane left tonight right after the end of the show. But he had been a little weirder than usual. Maybe he was tired, she had thought. He had been performing for six nights straight, surely that was a bit exhausting.

"The director of the theatre was caught in a car accident.", he said calmly but sadly.

Oh shit

Arya knew the woman… what was her name again?

Ah yes-

"Mrs. Crane? Is she alright?", she asked. The woman had talked to her once, she had been kind and caring, asking her if she enjoyed Berlin and the play and if she had everything she needed. She had even complimented her eyebrows or something.

"It does not look good, a man is afraid."

"Oh…", was all she responded. Well, she was a little sad for her, she did not know her at all but she seemed nice.

"A man thought he and a girl could go out for a drink instead, while they wait for their flight."

"Uh-", he had a certain talent to drift from one subject to another.

"Y-yeah, okay, I'll finish packing my things.", she answered with a quick smile.

He nodded and she closed the door.

Well, that was a little strange.

But she brushed the weird feeling away. She did not know this woman at all after all, and it did not look like he was super moved by her accident, so maybe he didn't know her much either. And she was going out for a drink with him and then they'd fly home, that meant she'd never see the blonde woman again. And that was definitely a relieve.

"Die Brandenburger Tor.", he said.

"The West and the East would communicate only through this gate when the wall still stood.", he added.

It was quite an impressive thing. The way it was lighted up made it look even more massive and heavy. The plaza splayed flat underneath to let it rise higher, and the four green copper horses drawing the carriage on top looked like they were about to take off and reach for the sky to race against the clouds and riot against the stars.

It was not as brisk as she would have expected for the beginning of a European winter. The plaza was huge and almost empty, and the open sky above their heads was so dark it felt like it could swallow the whole city if she stared into it for too long.

"So, is a girl satisfied with her trip?"

"Well, I feel like I've learned more about curtains and lights than I have about acting, but it surely was nice."

He laughed.

Damn it-it felt strange in her stomach yet she loved it when she managed to amuse him. She could not help but smile back like a fool.

Somehow this trip had helped her take Jon off her mind, and it felt like freedom. Her plan had worked.

She looked at him and his golden eyes were on her.

No, she thought.

He had helped her take Jon off her mind.

All of this might have been a good idea in the end, Arya thought, suddenly thankful. It had been lovely indeed, despite the rough start and the few awkward moments, in general she had had a very good time. She found herself regretting weirdly that it was over already. She wished she could spend more time in this city with him, visit it properly, let him guide her through the small alleys and tell her about the history behind them.

"So, it turns out the teacher who comes in late to his own class cares a bit about his students' education anyway in the end.", she said and he chuckled again, and the thrill in her stomach rose. Maybe that orange punch drink would give her the courage to flirt with him. She remembered how she had pondered for hours in LA whether she should or not flirt with him. Where would it lead anyway? She did not know, she did not want to know, but she wanted to try anyway. She considered the fact that it might ruin everything, but she figured she'd try her best to keep it subtle so she could always back away if things started to get awkward. Yes, that was a good strategy.

"Ah, but only about the students who desperately try to catch his attention by bumping into him.", he smirked.

Of course, he had to be a brat and ruin her plans.

"That's not what I did! I'm not one of them!", she defended herself.

"Them? And who is them?", he mocked her, and she hated him again, because she knew that he knew perfectly who she was talking about yet he wanted her to say it to make her sound even more ridiculous than she already was.

She clenched her teeth and let out a sharp sigh to clearly show her annoyance.

"These girls who keep on screaming for your attention during class.", she tried to say that angrily but only sounded like the confused little girl that she was.

"A man has noticed no one doing that…", his fake tone made her want to slap him and walk away. Or push him against the wall and smash her lips against his to make him shut up. Damn it.

"Only one most lovely girl who he keeps on noticing because she stares at him when she thinks a teacher is not looking, and then sneaks out before the end of the class because she's above salutations."

She lost her angry expression for a fraction of a second. He caught me staring too-

"That's not what I do!", she hissed.

Damn it- he caught me staring too?!

"A man has tricked you once yet you have not stopped doing it. If that's not begging for even more attention-"

"You're unbelievable!", she boiled up.

"Then what is a girl doing?", his arrogance was like a spark dancing near the dynamite in her, threatening to make her explode.

"I…", she blushed, suddenly feeling beyond stupid. Quick, what could she tell him? God, why can she never think about a good lie when she needs one the most?!

"I hate these girls who always ask stupid questions, so I leave before I hear them.", that was only half of the truth. Hopefully he'd believe her enough.

"Hate them? Why?", he continued, and her nerves were flaring, her cheeks aflame.

How was she supposed to say this? That she hated it when other girls spoke to him? Pathetic. And was he not done with his game already?! Did he not feel triumphing enough?! What was he trying to extirpate from her?

"Because-", she got lost in his eyes and her thoughts blurred. What the hell was she supposed to say?!

"They're annoying and I… I mean, I am-"

"Neidisch?", his demonic grin made her frown.

"What?" What the hell did that mean? Was it an insult?!

He leaned over, close, until she was against the wall under the Brandenburger Tor and she felt her cheeks burn from his warmth before he whispered next to her ear.

"Jealous?"

"No!", she hissed out of breath. Why couldn't she breathe suddenly? Was he doing that to her?

"I'm- No!- I'm…I'm…", What the hell did she want to say?! Say something!

"I'm… I meant-I'm…", she looked away unable to hold his stare for one more second. Shit, why did he love to embarrass her so?!

"I'm not jealous!", was all she managed to mumble, scoffing nervously, and she hated herself for how unsure she sounded. Because yes, even if she refused to admit it even in her mind, she was definitely jealous.

He said nothing, and she brought her eyes back to him to see if he bought the lie.

Shit

He did not. Not the slightest bit. He bought not a single word of it. How the hell did he manage to read right through her?! He now gawked at her like the devil himself probably gawked at his victims while torturing them in Hell.

He was winning over. She hated that. He was making fun of her again. She wanted to punch him and scratch his face and feel his blood underneath her short nails and oh-why did she tremble so inside when he made that Hmm sound?

"You're infuriating, you know that?!", she frowned while looking at him but she only felt like a puppet amusing him. And shit-he was pulling the strings, she realized. He had reached his goal by making her boil up. Or else why would he look so damn delighted?

He put a fake, hurt expression on his stupid, sexy face, and her eyes could not help but wander back and forth between his gleaming irises and this lower plump lip that she had thought of tasting so many times before like it were a tempting piece of fudgy brownie just there begging to be eaten. And his eyes had been the barrier, his arrogant, stupid eyes, daring her to eat the piece of mouth-watering brownie and deal with whatever consequences they had planned for her.

She bit her lip, felt her cheeks redden as the lust spread in her. Oh God he was so much older than her. And he was her teacher. This was so wrong. So, so wrong. So why the hell was it arousing her more?

"A girl could pick up a fight with such mean words…", he said, taking another step towards her, until she had to raise her chin and look up to him. She would hate looking up to anyone else, whoever they may be, but with him, she only felt safe.

"A girl has more courage than sense.", his hands were in his pockets, he was so relaxed and she was going so crazy.

"What if someone decided to pick up your fights? What could a girl do?"

"You think I'm too small to defend myself?", she was almost insulted. True, that her 5 feet 1 were not very impressive, but she had quite the reputation of being the ruthless warrior in elementary school.

He raised a brow that meant Absolutely.

"You shouldn't underestimate small people."

"Believe this man, lovely girl, he doesn't. Only you don't seem to be on top of my list of threats."

"You're just so full of yourself!"

"Is that so?", he raised both his brows, and his slyness made the anger spark.

"Yes! You're arrogant, and infuriating and-", her eyes drafted back to his lower, damnably kissable lip. Help me…

"And sly and above everyone you make fun of and-" God, these lips!

What was she saying again?

Ah, yes. She was mumbling and spitting out nonsense as a shield to try to show him how much she hated him but she sounded ridiculous and she hated herself and she hated that he did not seem to listen to a single word she was blurting out.

And these lips! She could be kissing them instead of trying and failing at explaining him how she despised him to try to shield herself from her own lust.

"And- arrogant…"

Yes, she actually could be kissing them.

Wait- no no. What if she got fired from another class? What if he told everyone about it? What if she became that chick who screws her teachers to get good marks? What if-Enough.

It was time for her to pull the reins.

"Could that be that a lovely girl only wants to-"

She tip-toed and crashed her lips against his.

And all the-Oh my God I'm kissing Jaqen H'ghar

And this was the most unexpectedly, amazingly odd feeling she had ever experienced.

God, I'm kissing him, I'm kissing him, I'm kissing him and it feels so fucking good and so fucking wrong at the same time and what the hell am I doing is this even right-

She had no idea if she was doing it right but it felt too freaking good to wonder if there was any other way to do it. Lips against lips were quite a feeling. It made her stomach tingle, her whole body seemed to be into it and she was unable to think about anything else than these soft and warm lips against her, moving against them, the heat of his body and his scent of spices. She felt his hands on her waist, push her lightly until she was pinned against the wall and she was devouring him gently.

She felt him sigh against her, the warm wind of softly caressing her face, and she could not think about anything else than the turmoil in her head. She was kissing him! That darn, sly, mysterious man was pressed against her under the Gate of Brandenburg and her lips were on that face she had day-dreamed about tasting so many times and oh, how would she ever be able to survive so many emotions rushing in her all at once? His lips were soft and knowing, so fucking perfect against hers… He was leading the pace, she could not believe the situation, it felt unreal and so freaking amazing, she shut the turmoil and wanted to enjoy it as much as she could.

God-she wished it had never stopped.

When their lips unlocked she was almost out of breath, her heart racing and her mind more confused than ever. God-fucking-sweet-hell what the heck is supposed to happen now he's a damn forty years-old teacher-

But Fuck- this had felt so good, so different than she had imagined, so much better, she could still feel her heart pound in her chest and the air lack in her lungs as if she had run a marathon and she was craving so much more. She was a bit dizzy, the odd and amazing feeling still on her lips, and she nervously chipped the soft skin around her nails to busy her fingers because she dreaded that he might treat her of crazy. Her eyes travelled everywhere but to his for the few seconds that followed, and the voice kept cursing in her head. What the hell did I do everything was perfectly fine and then-Oh shit, I took my life for a movie for half a second and I ruined everything again-

Oh fuck and now he was not saying anything, she dreaded to bring up her eyes to his and meet with an admonishing gaze or a disgusted stare or something even worse.

But she eventually did, with the fear holding a strong hold of her guts, she moved her eyes back slowly to his face and she felt her cheeks burn. Oh God this is going to be so awkw-

The bastard looked delighted. The sly smile was still plastered on his face and he looked like he had just won the freaking lottery.

"So, it turns out a girl who has a full list of her teacher's faults cares a bit about him in the end."

She sighed and could not help the fool's smile from tugging at her lips.

He threw a very quick look at his watch with the usual satisfied smirk on these lips that she was craving to taste again, and said they should head back to the hotel to get their luggage before leaving for the airport. She nodded meekly and her cheeks reddened. For a fraction of a second she thought about these condoms in her luggage. Would that be too rushed? Maybe… but damn it, she wanted it. Maybe that would make her a loose girl, maybe it wouldn't lead anywhere, but the thought lingered in her mind. Would she do it? It would be her first time…was she ready, to show her body, to give it to him, to do… all these things? She felt a pull in her lower stomach, her skin call for skin.

Oh, God

She wanted to.

"Like, I don't even know if I want to go to college. Maybe.", she answered to another of his questions on the way back to the hotel. The conversation went quite fluently, considering what had happened only minutes before. Arya would have expected everything to shift and become weird and awkward but it was all strangely natural. He was asking questions, as always, and in her mind the mental debate whether she was ready to do it or not and whether this was truly happening or if she was just over-interpreting everything went on like an infernal background music.

But he abruptly stopped walking.

He stared. Had she said something wrong?

"How old is a girl?"

Oh

"I-uh…I'll turn eighteen next month.", she answered.

Would that be a problem? Like, apart from the fact that he was her teacher, this was almost legal. She was one year older than regular twelfth graders for she had had to retake the eleventh grade because she had missed out too much after Dad's death. And it was not like he had abused her or something, she had been the one to initiate.

"A girl is a student in the High School over the street."

That wasn't a question. Did he expect an answer? Or was he just making a statement for himself?

"Y-yeah?"

The bedazzled look on his face almost amused her. Almost. What, she didn't look young enough for him to guess her age? It wasn't like she looked ten years older in any way, she looked about thirteen when she had no make up on.

"Why? How old are you?"

She didn't actually care about his age. But… they had just kissed in the middle of the street, why would he care about their age difference now?

"A man is older.", he said, and he looked slightly…she didn't actually know how he looked, his expressions were always hard to name exactly. Maybe disappointed was the right word?

"Much older."

Again, he never answered questions directly. But she didn't care about his age so she did not get mad when he gave her no exact number. He was forty something, and that was precise enough for her.

He looked at his watch, as if nothing had happened. He had a certain talent for skipping from one situation to the other as if the previous one never existed.

"We still have some time before the plane takes off. A girl should finish packing and meet a man downstairs in an hour with her luggage."

He smiled before walking away and leaving her in front of her hotel-room door a bit confused, alone, and… frustrated?

Well… ok

But, like…

Seriously?