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Jemmea

Today I sat, ready for class. I had already put my book away. There was no point in having it out when I couldn't concentrate on the words. Instead, I had my notepad out, and for the first time in a long time, had reverted to doodling in the margin as I thought.

I kept recalling how I felt when I left Seto's office the other day. I remember the feeling I could only describe as disappointment. I had not expected anything to happen, and I had enjoyed spending time with Seto, but I knew that it was not the kind of time I wanted to be spending with him. I was starting to feel like just being near him wasn't enough. It seemed like a greater distance all the time.

Seto came in and sat down next to me. His eyes passed over me a usual, but he looked back for an extra second. He noticed that something was different, his hesitation stemming from the absence of my literature, but he said nothing and turned away, sitting down beside me.

And this was the problem. When he was that much closer to me, I felt the fluttering in my stomach again. I was hopeful that he would touch me, discreetly if not accidentally. And with that came almost an embarrassment to have such feelings.

I sat and waited for the science to distract me, but today it didn't work. I was only half consumed. There were two ways Seto approached our lab experiments, depending on his mood. Some days he would do a fair amount of the work, but no more than what he needed to, feeling that the class was beneath him. Other days he would take full control, feeling that the experiment needed to be executed so precisely that only he could do it, or he would take the opportunity to do something even more advanced with the materials. I wasn't sure if it was to show off, prove he was smarter than everyone, or because he was feeling particularly underwhelmed. Today was one of the days that he took control, and it didn't help with my predicament.

I watched him carefully, standing back and feeling like a nurse at the side of a surgeon. "Jem," he said, startling me, "I need you to hand me that beaker over there."

I shook my head a little. "Right," I replied. I leaned forward, my focus on retrieving the beaker. In the midst of mentally scolding myself for being so unfocused, I was jerked back.

"Jem," Seto scorned. He was quick to act. Seto reached across me, grabbing my wrist and pushing me back. "What are you doing? You would have burned yourself!" he reprimanded.

I looked back. I had neglected to think about how the beaker I was reaching for was over the burner quite obviously hot. This realization only lasted a split second before it was replaced with the realization that Seto's hand now clung to my wrist. And I realized that he held it far longer than he needed to. The reach also brought him that much closer. Without being able to help it, I looked up at him.

His eyes were on me. They were disapproving, but they were studying me as well. I think he noticed something was off. This may have been the point that another person would have asked me what was wrong, but that wasn't who Seto was.

"Get yourself together," he scolded before letting go to grab the tongs and collect the beaker himself. Then he ordered, "Now watch."

I let my eyes return to his hand as he poured the contents of the hot beaker into his mixture. He immediately set the beaker down, it no longer of any importance, and released the tongs. Then, he picked the mixture up by the top of the wider glass and swirled it, and it began to glow. I liked it, and he knew it. I smiled, staring at the illuminated concoction as he gently set it down.

"Mr. Kaiba," the teacher reprimanded sharply, finally noticing. "That is not what I asked you to do."

"Save it, I finished your assignment ten minutes ago," he replied dryly, clearly annoyed. "Why don't you give your attention to one of the idiots that needs it."

In that moment, I was content, enjoying the gentle glow and the temporary relief that his grasp had brought me.

Kaiba

"Let's make this quick," I snapped as we approached the door.

"Of course, Mr. Kaiba," Roland said. He quavered, fumbling with the lock now under what should have been an expected pressure.

"This better not be a waste of my time," I warned.

"I assure you, this will meet your expectations." The door clicked and he pushed it open for me. "I've had it inspected as well. It is up to code. I've researched this particular area and building for safety and reputation, and both are in high standings."

"Good. Stay here," I directed as I entered, already slightly irritated by the whole thing. I just wanted to get all of this over with. I was quick as I went through the apartment. Everything was nice, clean, sturdy, etc. To me it was smaller, having grown accustomed to mansions, but in reality, it was probably about the same size as the entire orphanage. It would be more suited for her, however, seeing how she could become easily overwhelmed. And it had a library.

As I went back, my tour swift and now at an end, I noticed what I should have seen first. In the main room, right across from the entrance, there were walls of glass, providing a view of the nearby skyscrapers. I paused, looking at it. I remembered how she looked when she came to my office and would gaze out the window, dazzled. How captivating it could be, and not just for her. Slowly, I approached the window, looking out. I turned, looking down the street. Not far off, I could see my company.

"So," Roland asked from the doorway, "what do you think?"

With my eyes fixed on my company, I answered, "This will do."

So... good? Continue? Tell me what you think.