A/N: Two words—braise yerselves.
[14]
"Thanks for patching me up, sir," she said, nervous energy crawling up and down her skin in spite of herself. She shot him an embarrassed grin, patting the secured ice pack on her ankle. "Thanks, really."
The professor replied with a sigh, still tired from the ordeal he had gotten himself in. From the long hours locked inside the library, to him carrying her across the entire campus. And he was sure the elevator ride had been more exhausting than if he had instead carried her up eleven flights of steps.
He closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose with a thumb and a pointer finger, sighing once more. He turned for the door, picking up his discarded jacket lying on the floor as he went.
"You're welcome."
Just as he was reaching for the knob, she murmered, "Would . . . would you like a cup of tea before you go?"
And when he looked at her—eyes downcast, thumbs twiddling, shoulders tense—knowing that she truly wished for him to stay, he knew he couldn't hold himself back anymore.
He crossed the room in three hurried strides, cradled her cheeks gently with both hands, and kissed her.
Her eyes shot open in surprise, but instead of seeing the ceiling above her, her sight was clouded with a haze brought upon by the frenzy of emotions swirling about in her head.
He drew himself away from her lips after what she felt was a lifetime, and looked at her with confliction hidden behind his glasses. Reaching up, she took those off and leaned in—but not the entire way. She hovered in front of him, with only an invisible paper's depth separating their lips, waiting for him to cross the distance.
Infinities upon infinities passed without them moving closer or moving away, and consciously feeling the heavy influence of their heat mingling together was even more intense than their kiss. They looked at each other, knowing what they wanted and knowing that they shouldn't, inner thoughts bare for the world to see reflected in the windows of their souls.
But suddenly he severed the link, leaning away from her and averting his gaze. His unmoving stance gave nothing away as shadows from a window criss-crossed his flushed face. She couldn't guess what he was thinking anymore.
And slowly the sun rose, bringing in warmth into the room with its specter of colors, invading everything with an enlightenment she didn't want to see, didn't want to believe.
A ray of light glinted at his closed fist, and she realized it was from that damn . . . wedding ring.
All her blood rushed down to the soles of her feet as butterflies fluttered frantically inside her stomach, then heat reentered her body not a second later, shame replacing desire as it stained her cheeks.
". . . I'm sorry."