His fingers curled around the looped handles as he paused outside the office door. It was eerily silent: the bustling corridors empty, the car park deserted. The only sound came from a voice on the other side of the door. She was singing something he vaguely recognised; her dulcet tones accompanied by what he took to be the radio in the background.

Inside the room, Rachel Mason stood in front of the window watching as the last trail of staff meandered out of the gates towards the weekend. It had been a long, draining week and yet she had never felt so alive. She wriggled her toes into the plush carpet, her heels having been long discarded along with the jacket of her suit. The sun, visible through the blinds which had been fully opened, basked her with its warmth, her eyes closing in order to savour the golden rays. It had been a long winter, followed by a cold spring so the promise of an Indian summer had been greatly received by everyone. There was colour in the world again which in turn had infused a spring into everyone's step and, with only a fortnight to the summer holidays, she finally felt able to let go a little and to make the most of the long evenings.

That was when she found herself thinking about him as she often did at this point in the afternoon. Sometimes she would allow herself to get lost in a daydream and on other occasions, she would drop by his classroom with an offer of a coffee and spend the next hour perched on the edge of his desk laughing ashamedly at his choice of joke or at something they had both watched the night before. He teased her but she allowed it, making no attempt to conceal the flush that would creep up on her. She felt comfortable in his presence but, as she had come to realise, there was more to it than that.

Butterflies.

They had started off as gentle flutters; so subtle that she barely noticed them. As time had passed, as she had spent more and more time in his company, she became more aware of them and it unsettled her for she recognised them all too well. To say she was in love with him would perhaps be a step too far. In order for her to admit this to herself, she would need some confirmation that he felt the same way. Whilst they were skirting around each other as colleagues, friends even, the time was not right.

"Knock, knock."

She folded her arms across her chest, a smile curving onto her lips before turning around, knowing full well who would be disturbing her at a time when everyone had escaped to the sanctuary of the pub.

"Mr Lawson, I thought you'd gone."

"What, and miss out on your audition for X Factor?" He grinned mischievously at her as he stepped further into the room.

Her eyes were drawn towards the paper bag he held but she didn't pursue it. "I was thinking more Britain's Got Talent actually." Reaching across her desk, she
flicked the radio to off, casting them into silence.

He watched her closely, eliciting everything to memory. Her sparkling eyes, radiant smile and the curve of her tiny waist which was made visible by the ruche of her shirt as she leant across her desk. He tore his glance away, a sense of guilt consuming him. Never had a sight been so beautiful to him.

"Earth to Eddie."

He blinked rapidly as he came back to his senses. "Sorry, I erm…"

"I hope you're not tired because I'm rather looking forward to our meal."

"Ah yes, about that…"

Her face crumpled slightly." Don't tell me…you got a better offer?"

"No, of course not. What I was going to say was that I'll pick you up at eight. That's if you still want to I mean…"

"Of course. I'm sorry. It's been a hell of a day and I'm not thinking straight."

"Makes two of us then. I also wanted to give you this." He handed her the bag which she took reluctantly, confusion etched across her features.

"Oh Eddie…"

"Don't open it til you get home."

"Why not?"

"Just…I'll get embarrassed." His cheeks reddened and he began to retreat towards the door.

"So I'll see you at eight?"

"Yes, I'll…I'll see you then."

She watched him leave whilst turning the gift over and over in her hands. She was utterly perplexed.

And yet delighted.

In equal, thrilling measure.