Um….the beginning of this chapter is sexual in nature and I'm warning you that it's M rated. It's not really smutty (as typical smut is, you know...pretty raunchy), I will continue to say that it IS in good taste. It's not just carnal; it does carry meaning for the two characters, and it's not meant for you to get off on. :[[[[
If you do not want to read, that's fine; I understand completely, and this isn't my usual fare. BUT YOU WILL NOT MISS ANYTHING IMPORTANT IF YOU DON'T READ IT. I PROMISE. It's…mostly just alarming, but not in a way you expect. Don't worry, it's nothing creepy….
BUT YOU MUST READ PART 2.
If you do NOT want to read, please scroll down to the part you see in bold, like this:
PART 2
PART 2
PART 2
PART 2
PART 2
Anyway, byebye.
-Kelsey
CHAPTER 23 SOLUBLE
Despite the table lamp, the room felt dim and cloaked, ready to hide secrets. Laura fell back onto the bed in a fit of giggles, the Professor landing gently on top of her as she pulled him down in her descent. She barely had time to collect her bearings before he kissed her deeply on the mouth, his eagerness apparent as he slid his tongue over hers repeatedly. She couldn't help but moan, immediately feeling stupid and deciding she'd suppress it the next time around.
"Hershel, I do need to breathe, you know!" she huffed, pushing him off slightly. "Please, what happened to the gentleman who was all flustered and confused on the front porch?"
He sat up, red in the face. Laura knew it wasn't from expelling energy.
"W-Well, I… I'm still me, you know, I'm not…I'm not doing anything uncivilized!"
"Oh? I never said anything about uncivilized, but that was a pretty anxious kiss all the same. Someone's a bit energetic…" She giggled as the disgruntled Layton sighed huskily, rolling his eyes, causing her to laugh even harder. "What a card…"
"Really now? If I'm not mistaken, I think I heard someone let out a bit of a moan just moments ago. I don't think it's only me being anxious…"
"Oi, moaning doesn't mean I liked it!" exclaimed the girl, her heart racing as she slapped his shoulder playfully. Had she viewed herself as an outsider, an observer, she would have scoffed in disgust that she would allow herself to behave so loosely, so...so…expressively. In the moment, however, she was riding every hormonal wave that flirting brought along with it. It was new, something fiery and robust, coasting her along without much thought.
'Without much thought…that may be dangerous…'
Chuckling, Layton gave her an unexpected seductive glance as he grabbed her hand, pulling her to sit up in front of him. "Well, I didn't hear any objections. Seems my student's learning rather quickly, hm?" He placed several quick kisses to her lips, tracing down her neck slowly. Laura shivered, his warm breath at her dress's collar, sending goose-bumps down her arms.
"Hershel, I…" She stopped, looking down at her waist. Half of his arm was hidden under her dress, his hand blindly guiding itself around to her lower back. He ran the tips of his fingers along her spine, catching her gasp in his mouth as he pressed another kiss against her lips. She wrapped her arms about his neck, reciprocating every action he made with his tongue, not noticing she was once again laid horizontal, parallel with the mattress. The Professor straddled her waist, one knee on either side of her as she giggled playfully, trying to wriggle out from underneath him. He grabbed her by the wrists and, without much effort, kept her pinned against the warm bedspread.
"Going somewhere?" That typical, beguiling smile…
"Oh, stop playing coy. Behind that smile is something sinister, you brat." She struggled against his hold, to no avail.
"Such tenacity! I'm barely even putting any effort into this, you know," he chortled, his laughter crisp and genuine as a mischievous glint danced in his eyes, a teasing complement to his broad grin. As much as she'd like to record and replay the moment, Laura eyed him carefully, letting him know he'd picked the wrong person to challenge.
"A brat, even at a moment like this!"
She tried using her own weight against his grip, pushing off his hold with force. Bending her legs too quickly, her knee roughly brushed across the crotch of his pants, causing him to inhale sharply. Laura straightened her legs back out and froze, eyes wide.
"Oh my gosh, I'm….I'm so sorry….I didn't mean to, well… Oh my, I didn't hurt you, did I? I'm so sorry—"
"N-No, I'm…fine, really…" He released her arms and blinked, trying to clear his mind, calm his irregular heart rate. He wasn't about to admit to her that it was actually pleasure, not pain, that caused him to react so suddenly. He grimaced, attempting to nonchalantly rearrange his pants into a more comfortable position.
'I never once thought I'd be having such trouble with these trousers in such circumstances…'
"I'm really sorry, I don't really know how much pain that causes, you know…getting bumped there, being a male and all that... But everyone always told me to kick there if I was ever being mugged, so it must really hurt! I didn't think I'd actually ever be in a situation where it'd be an accident…"
He smiled and laughed. "Really, Laurie, it's fine. It wasn't really painful, just…surprising, I suppose…" He could tell she was nervous, being afraid she'd done something awful. It almost made him want to tell her the truth.
"I guess I shouldn't move around so randomly, but..." She slowly started to pull herself up, being careful not to bump him again. "You were holding me down and I couldn't reposition and arrange my clothes, and it's not very ladylike, in a dress, you know, to be…well, frolicking about. So…"
"Laurie, really, it's okay. Calm yourself. I'm fine! See? Fine."
After staring at the hem of her dress for a few seconds, she gave a sigh of relief. "Well, still. Perhaps I'm just…well, I don't know. It's not like I do this all the time or something!"
"And for that I'm glad," he muttered, chuckling.
"It's just that this isn't the most comfortable thing to be wearing in this…um, situation." She pulled at her dress, fingering the material. "It'd be better if I—"
"Didn't wear anything at all?"
Professor Layton ran his fingers underneath the heavy cotton of her dress, tickling Laura's bare stomach. She gasped, her eyes instantly shooting down to her torso.
"H-Hershel! What are you doing? That's really not—"
"It's much more comfortable without your dress, as you've alluded to, and…if I may be so bold, I'm finding it impossible to get this desire out of my mind…"
She looked at him with crazed eyes, unsure and slightly scared about whatever the 'desire' was. "Um, Hershel…what are you going on about?"
"Laura, may I remove your dress?"
"Good God, what's wrong with you?" she shrieked, holding her arms about her chest as if he could see through her clothing. She gripped herself tighter when he laughed weakly, his face turning pink.
"I'm sorry, I suppose I just…I was just…well…no, really, I can't believe myself, I feel—"
"Oh my, where did my gentleman professor go? I think his randy twin just blew in!" She crossed her arms and smiled impishly at his increasingly reddening face.
"Laura, please, if you put it that way, then…nevermind. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm getting a bit ahead of myself, I'm so sorry, please forgive me."
Without hesitation she pulled the garment off and over her head, the absence of the clothing sending a new shower of shivers across her cool skin. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hide behind them somewhat, half for warmth, half to shield herself. It was different, sitting half naked in black pantyhose and a brassiere, with a man obviously gawking at her. Different? Maybe that wasn't the word, she decided. More like stupid.
'Yes, this is stupid. I'm being really stupid…just showing myself off so easily! I've lost all respect for myself…I wouldn't have done this in normal circumstances, I'm losing my mind!'
She looked up, indignant. "Well, don't just stare. You're making me self-conscious!"
Shaking his head, Professor Layton smiled awkwardly, cheeks skirted with even more deep pink. "I'm sorry, it's just…well, you're very…I…" He looked down at his hands, nervously smoothing out a section of the bedding material. "Maybe you should put y-your dress back on, I'm not really sure I should be—no, I'm very sorry, I feel absolutely awful, I gave in too quickly. Although you really are rather, um, how do I say this… Why is this so hard to say?"
"Because you're stupid?"
"Yes, perhaps that's—now see here, no! That's not…wait, Laurie, what are you doing?"
Laura climbed into his lap, straddling his waist, mocking his disheveled mannerisms. She placed a series of quick kisses to his face, around his mouth, at the corners of his lips, teasing him until his breathing turned into desperate gasps.
"Laurie, please… I—"
"Shut up, Hershel." She pressed herself against him, smiling as he moaned softly. "I'm not going to think for the moment. Neither should you."
"Ah, no, really, you…it's…you're just…tea-teasing me…" He gently placed his hands on her hips and slid her off of his lap. "You're moving around too much, it's really…putting me into an uncomfortable predicament…"
She shrugged. "Didn't seem too uncomfortable a couple of minutes ago, what with that little gasp, your short moan when I bumped you there earlier. I figured I didn't hurt you. You're just a pervert. Lecher, lecher!"
Layton coughed and shook his head quickly. "What? No, no! It's not that at all, you just—"
"Yeah. Yeah right. Look, I'm just having fun with you. I'm sorry, I'll be honest, but I guess I'm a bit of a sadist. Truthfully, I quite like making you squirm. It's, oh how should I put it, a…bit of a turn on…" She ruffled his hair, running the short strands between her fingers. "Tell me, do you think sitting in the cold with only these garments on is comfortable?" With a quick glance down at herself, she scrunched her nose as a hint.
"No, but—"
"No 'buts' about it," she grumbled irritably, shaking a finger in his direction. She cleared her throat, diverting his attention back to her face rather than elsewhere on her person. "If you want my clothes off, you mentally get played with. That's just how it goes. At any rate—oi, are you even listening to me?"
"Laura, I have to confess, there's something mentally distracting about having you sitting there like that, so no, I'm not listening to you in the slightest."
The girl looked at him incredulously, mouth agape. "W-What? You can't say that, you're—"
"A gentleman? Oh yes. Yes, yes, I am. And I always put a lady's needs first." He crawled towards her, Laura leaning back on the palms of her hands. He lay alongside her with his back against the bed and grabbed her gently, guiding her on top of him. "Did I not mention that you'd be getting punished?"
"I'm still waiting… Hmm, I don't like being on top." He chuckled and switched positions, looking into her face carefully, as if searching. Perplexed, Laura returned the glance with a wry smile. "What?"
"You changed somehow, in the past quarter of an hour. It's as if…I'm getting to see the real you. Raw emotion, your true self. I've never seen you so…open and energetic."
"Hmm…I'm not sure why, but I feel as if I…can be me. Like, I have nothing to hide!" She laughed, the thought all the more pleasant as she looked back into his eyes, a pair of calming orbs full of understanding and patience, caring and love. She didn't need to hear him confess or proclaim anything. It was as if she just knew that it was there.
"Neither do I. Hmm, yes, still waiting for your punishment, aren't you. Who am I to make you wait?" He kissed down her chest plate, stopping just above the lining of her bra. She let out a brief giggle before gasping loudly as he moved his hands underneath the garment's material, massaging her breasts slowly. A warm sensation swept through her veins, starting in her head, reaching to her toes, and concentrating somewhere below her abdomen as she writhed underneath his touch. She curled her toes and arched her back slightly as he fingered the most sensitive part, his thumbs circling her nipples. She felt her nerves sparking madly beneath her skin, only finding the energy to moan instead of fighting him off.
"W-What are you…doing that for? That's not…what…you should be…doing…Hershel, is this really…necessary…"
"Oh, I suppose you're right." Slowly but skillfully, he unclasped her brassiere from behind her back and proceeded to remove it completely. He glanced at her, trying not to make her feel embarrassed, but found it difficult to look away. For a moment, he felt dirty for letting his eyes rove over her pale skin, creamy and soft in contrast to the busy and rough patterns of the bed's comforter. It was impossible to not continue staring but it only was allowed to last for a moment.
Laura looked around timidly as she cupped her breasts in her hands, covering them. "It's just rather new, this whole bit… I'm a tad, well, I guess concerned. I'm not very easy on the eyes, perhaps I should go back to my clothes and—" He forced her to remove her hands, smiling warmly at her. He held her gaze in his until she couldn't help but smile back. "What's with that smile again?"
"Don't be embarrassed. You have no reason to be. I…there really is no other way to say it, but I think you're insanely beautiful, I'm sorry if that's awkward to accept. Don't…don't cover yourself." He bent down without hesitation and kissed about her chest over and over, each rise and fall of his lips leaving a moist patch of skin for the cold air to cling on to. He purposefully ignored her pleas for him to stop, instead alternatively taking her hardened nipples between his lips, his warm tongue circling them tenderly, slowly.
She breathed in quickly, wincing, swearing he had nibbled at her playfully.
"Hershel, p-please don't…I really can't explain it, but it's making me feel really strange, let me get dressed—"
"I'm sorry, but as long as you're in my house, I believe it's only appropriate for you to follow my rules." He proceeded to gather her discarded articles of clothing that were within arm's reach and toss them casually to the floor. "I quite like your hosiery, so, if you don't mind, you can leave your panty hose on for the moment."
"For the moment? Hershel, really, I—"
He lowered his face alongside her own, his mouth just outside of her ear. "No clothes, Laurie. They're too much of a hassle."
"A hassle?" she hissed. "Why do I have to be cold and naked, when you are still in your trousers and shirt?" Without a second's thought she grabbed the waistband of his pants and unbuckled the belt hurriedly, finishing with the button and zipper. The Professor yelled out as she began tugging on them, trying to pull them off.
"Steady on, be careful down there, it's rather sensitiiii-i-i-ive, Laura, stop it, that's not funny!"
Laura laughed, covering her face with her hands as she rubbed her knee across his groin area.
"But it is funny! Look at how weak you become, like a dropped marionette!"
"No, no, Laura, stop, please, you don't understand, you can't just, oh God, you…can't…"
A devilish grin spread across Laura's face as she continued rubbing up against him with her leg. "Oh, would you rather me stop then? Okay, I'll stop. But it was quite funny. However, remember this kindness. You wouldn't stop when I asked you to!"
The Professor propped himself up on his elbows, stretching his legs out behind him as he kicked off his pants entirely. "I suppose that's fair enough…"
"Hmm, but maybe not. It's not quite fair—" she nudged him in the same spot, "—that I get such treatment—and you don't."
"No, no, no, it's quite alright, Laura… Laura! Please, no, not…"
"Seems to give you the same sensation I got while you were busy up here," she whispered sultrily, cupping her breasts in her hands. "Makes someone quite happy, it seems…" She abandoned her leg and instead began using her hand, stroking the outside of his underwear cautiously. Smiling triumphantly, she watched as Layton closed his eyes, lost inside of some pleasurable day dream.
"Laura, I…I don't know what you're doing, but…it's...it's…"
"Good?"
"More than that…" Forcing himself out of his reverie, he pulled down the black panty hose Laura was still wearing, his goal now readily in sight. "Laurie, please, let me touch you, I can't take it for much longer. I've been waiting all evening now…"
Finding the request somewhat odd, mostly because of the manner of delivery, Laura burst into laughter. "Asking me so kindly about something most people would just…do, I'm certain! You really are funny…"
"I need you to be aware that I'd never force you into anything if you didn't want to do it! I'm not just going to do as I please with your body. It is yours after all." Tossing her leggings aside, he ran his hands up and down her legs, starting at her ankles and ending around her thighs.
"I suppose that's right and proper… Now I feel bad for just letting my own hands wander…"
"Don't apologize." Leaning over her, Layton lost the amicable expression he typically wore and furrowed his brow. "Laura, let's be serious for a moment. I…have no intention of stopping at this point. I won't be subtle about it: I want to make love to you. I don't want you confused or guessing, I know how much you hate that. I don't want you in a situation you might regret later just because you didn't have the facts straight." He kissed her forehead. "Are you comfortable with this?"
Now that it had been presented in such a forthright way, she thought about it a bit deeper. "Well, Hershel…do you think this is going to work out?"
"Whatever do you mean?"
"I mean, will you stay? Stay with me? You aren't one to just…get laid and then move on to the next girl, are you? I'm…oh my, I'm so dumb, I don't know how I could have ever suspected you of doing such a thing, I think I'm just…a bit nervous…I really couldn't go and do anything with anyone else, if I go through with this. I feel like I'm signing myself away!" She blinked, trying to focus on a spot on the ceiling. Layton stroked her face with the backside of his fingers.
"I'll make it work out. I'm not interested in finding anyone else, you're already everything I ever would have thought to look for in someone." He kissed her on the forehead. "But still, I only want you to go through with this if you truly love me. Don't feel pressured. It's very important. I want you to feel you can believe that. If you want to stop, I'll stop. If you want to wait, I'll wait."
Everything seemed to fit. Nothing seemed amiss. All words she wanted to hear. It was secure, something solid to believe in. Most importantly…
'The more he talks, the less I'm afraid. I think I just worry too much…is that it? I'm not sure! I think I need to trust him. That's a part of loving someone. If I can't trust him, he's not worth it anyway…He said…it'd work out. That means…forever…
Yes…forever…'
"I can believe that," she whispered, smiling. "You're the only friend I've ever had, and that's saying a lot. I trust you more than anyone I know. And I know you: you wouldn't screw me over, so to speak. No pun intended…"
He crawled over her, kissing her softly on the side of her face. "The feeling is mutual." He slowly slid his hand into her underwear, exploring her gently. "If you ever feel uncomfortable, let me know. I'll stop."
"So if it just feels good, you won't ever stop?" she chortled, a mischievous grin at her lips. She attempted to hide her nervousness. Whatever was going to happen, it was completely new to her. It wasn't that she didn't trust him; perhaps it was more of disappointing him. "Um…Hershel?"
"Yes?"
"Have you ever done this before?" She wished in that moment that she hadn't asked, unsure if she really wanted to know the answer or not. Without reason, she instantly felt jealous, as if he'd already answered with an undesirable reply.
"Have I ever fallen so hard in love with someone as I have with you?"
Rolling her eyes, Laura snorted. "Well, I guess not, but I'm looking for a straight answer! Have you, or haven't you?"
"No, I haven't." He kissed her fully on the lips. "You get me all to yourself. That's why I want you to communicate whether it's painful or not. Because, well….I'm just guessing here."
"Oh…well…that's fine. To be honest, I'm really glad. I was scared you'd say something else…"
He laughed. "Who do you take me for, a predator? I'd never use anyone like that. Now then, no more worrying or questioning from you." He became silent, reading her gasps and movements as he moved his fingers about her most private of areas.
'I suppose it's not really difficult, if one's perceptive!'
"Whatever you're doing, it…feels really nice…" Laura moaned, a short giggle at the end of her comment.
"You know, you're more than welcome to use your hands as well…" A smirk stretched across his face as he gingerly inserted one of his fingers inside of her. "Does that hurt?"
She felt her legs wanting to squirm, but she kept still, afraid to have something go wrong. "Not…exactly. It's like, oh, I'm not sure how to say it, it's a bit tight. It's just plain weird, really."
"Well, that's only natural, I suppose. I'm afraid it might hurt a bit when we—we—we, oh God that feels really good…" He slumped forward, barely catching himself with his free hand as Laura timidly reached into his underpants, touching whatever came to her hand first.
She grimaced, not knowing what to expect, and wondering exactly what it was she was feeling. "It's…it's a bit wet, and…well, it's a bit slippery. And…yes, it's also a bit gross. What does it look like anyway?" She sat up a bit and looked down into his underwear with a grotesque grimace as she stretched open the garment at the elastic. The Professor scowled.
"Really, do you have to make this so awkward? Leave your scientist sort of attitude at the door next time you come over," he grumbled. "This isn't some experiment or something!"
"Well, why do you get to see me all laid out, but I can't see you? You aren't being fair in the slightest! Oh my, the male genitalia is really quite odd looking, isn't it? Thankfully, I'm a female…"
"Laura!"
"Oh, sorry." She let the garment fall back to its original position, Layton wincing as the band hit his skin with a small snap.
"Ow! Well, I guess you have a point… But it's still awkward, just don't talk about it like that…" He frowned all the more when she laughed. "Now you're mocking me?"
"Yes! Because the great Hershel Layton is flustered. He's embarrassed about something so mundane as one's private parts! Congratulations, Hershel, I think this is the most thoroughly amused I've been since the start of this school year." She stroked him carefully, watching his eyes start to droop. After a few minutes his breaths became more ragged, shorter. "And watch how he shifts modes so quickly! First he's all upset, then almost flat on his face because he can't keep himself up!"
"S-Stop it, Laurie…" he moaned, unconsciously starting to move his hips more rhythmically. "You're teasing me a bit…too much…"
"Oh, poor little baby, can't handle it? Perhaps I'll stop…" she warned, taken by surprise when she felt herself pressed deeper into the bed, her lips smothered in another deep and passionate kiss. She barely noticed her final garment being slid off of her hurriedly, almost frantically, the Professor doing the same to his own as well. He positioned himself half in front of her, half over her, ready at her entrance. He looked down at his student, smiling warmly, but an anxious and painful glint showed in his eyes.
"Laurie, I want you to tell me if it hurts. Understood?" He waited for her to nod, a sufficing confirmation. With little hesitation, he slowly slid himself into her, feeling guilty as Laura winced, a small whine escaping her lips. "Does it hurt?"
Grimacing, she moved him forward by his shoulders as he pulled out, reentering a bit quicker. "A…a little… It's just…a little different, as well….It's…really painful, but it still feels really good, I can't quite…explain it, it's…really weird…"
"Should I stop, or keep going?"
She nodded. "Keep…keep going…"
He increased his speed, sliding himself in and out with no problems, Laura's gasps and moans harmonizing with his thrusts. Her fingers flew wildly to his head, through his hair as he continued. He hissed as she grabbed two large clumps of his hair at the roots. "Laura, let go, that hurts!"
"I need…something to grab on to! I….oh God, oh God, please don't stop, Hershel, pleeeease…" Tears started at the corners of her eyes, why, she didn't know. Her hips continued moving to his rhythm effortlessly, as if she knew what would come next, she was so in tune with him. If she were analyzing it, she might have thought it was her rhythmic prowess at the piano that attributed to her reading the rhythm so successfully now. "Herrrr-r-r-shellll, ah, please, go…faster, faster, please…just like that, oh God, Hershel, I don't know…how much more…it feels really…warm, or something…"
The Professor wasn't used to physical exertion, but found no problems as he continued feeding off every pleasurable wave that rushed through his body, every pre-orgasmic sensation that pounded throughout his entire groin. He could feel beads of sweat trailing down his face, his thighs, the backs of his knees. "Laura, I love it when you…call my name like that… Come on, say it again."
"Her-r-r-shel, oh God, oh God, it's almost too…too much, ah! Please, please, don't—"
"That's not how you should say it, there's only one 'R' after all," he whispered with a grimace. "What's my name again?"
"Her—Herrrrshel, I can't do it if you keep pushing like that! I can't t-talk straight about anyth—Hershel, please, I really can't…take much more of this… I—!"
"It's okay, shh, I'm going to guide you through it." He helped her move along with him again, her back slightly arching with every wave that swept over her body. Although everything at the moment was foreign, he could tell Laura was close to her limits, her body quickly preparing for an orgasm.
"Hershel, Hershel, please, don't stop! I think I'm going to…Something's…I'm, I'm, I'm, I don't know, I just…!" Laura moaned loudly, digging her nails into the Professor's shoulders, making him whimper quietly. Her body shook madly, her voice breaking as she screamed, almost to the point of crying. Layton closed his eyes, not able to contain himself anymore after listening to her reaction and feeling her inner muscles contract around him. Much less dramatically, he felt himself release as he shouted out, forgetting the world momentarily as pleasure the likes of which he'd never known drowned his entire conscious mind. He forgot about worries and standards and societal pressures. He almost forgot about who was laying underneath him, quickly reminded as he opened his eyes once again, blinking so his vision would return. It ended almost as quickly as it started, he thought, although the sensation was still coursing through his veins.
He smiled weakly, his breathing still uneven.
"L-Laurie? Heh, are you alright?" He looked upon her, her eyes shut fast. "Laurie, open your eyes. I want to see you."
Laura merely turned her head to one side and kept her eyes glued tight. Her mouth was pursed, her lips forced shut. She didn't so much as make a grunt, even to acknowledge that the Professor was there. He caressed her face with his hand, turning her face back towards him.
"Laurie, come now, was it really so tiring that it put you to sleep?" he said with a laugh, but only half jokingly, as she made no movement still. Sighing, he tapped her face nervously, worried as to why she wasn't responding to stimulus. "Laurie? Laura, can you hear me?" He continued by shaking her, tapping her face again, his hand against her cool skin making a dull pap sound. "What's wrong with—"
PART 2
PART 2
PART 2
PART 2
PART 2
PART 2
PART 2
It all happened at once. He gasped as the girl's hands latched onto his wrists, preventing him from touching her anymore. Her eyes shot open, only a shadow of what they had shown just minutes before; they glistened mockingly, a gripping fear hid behind a glint of malice. She sneered, half provocatively, half sardonically.
"Allfinished,Professor?Gotwhatyouwanted?Areyouleavingnow?"
He gasped, startled as her voice emanated like a demonic cackle, her words spoken so quickly that they were like a fluid, debauched and dirty as they streamed into his ears. Her grip on his arms tightened as she twisted at his wrists.
"What in the world—?" He yelled out, trying to break from her confining and literal handcuffs while he stared in horror as the whites of her eyes began to slowly fade, an inky black bleeding into them from the corners. Her possessed leer began drooping, the corners of her mouth bending her smirk into a panicked grimace.
"Areyouleavingmenow? Don'tleaveme,don'tdoit,whydoyougettoleave?Whycan'tIcometoo?
WHY. CAN'T. I. LEAVE. TOO?" she bellowed in terror, shaking his arms, the rest of his body responding likewise. Her strength was surprisingly immense; Layton thought he heard something crack in his arm, near his elbow. He was alarmed, so much so that he couldn't react in any way other than staring at her now completely ebony orbs, the jet black substance drowning out her formerly chocolate eyes. He whimpered, half from dread, half from the sharp and stinging pain in his forearms.
"Please, let go of me, let me go!"
"SEE?THAT'. You're going to LEAVE me alone, alone, all alone. Don't leave me!" She began to sob, but the Professor had trouble feeling sympathy as the scene was too horrific. All that was in his mind was fear and terror. "Don't….don't leave me! DON'T DO IT!" she screamed, shrieking at the top of her lungs, a long piercing note ringing out in the dim room. He wanted desperately to cover his ears as she would belt out the shrill cries, pausing intermittently as she'd collect enough air to let out one after the other.
"You're nothing but a lying, cheating, pervert! You've ruined me, RUINED ME AND LEFT ME. You lied, you never loved me, ever, you lied and became afraid, and you left. Used me, left me. You said it'd work, did you mean forever? OR FOR THE NIGHT? Are you happy now? Areyouhappy, oh,sohappy…sooooohappythatyou'vegottenwhatyouwanted, anddon'thavetoworry?"
Tears started in the Professor's eyes. "Please, please let me go…"
"Nomore,anymore,. Don't leave me, don'tleave—"
Professor Layton sprung up with a shout, tossing the bedspread off of him. He looked around, the rising sun weakly penetrating the drawn curtains. He blinked, his breathing nervous and irregular. Cold sweat dripped in beads down his brow.
"A dream…it was…just another dream… Another…"
'Just? Just a dream…? Yes…
Just a dream.'
The dreams, in the beginning, were a nightly business, hollowing out his inner thoughts, killing any time of renewal that sleep was supposed to bring. He hoped leaving behind Grissom's would be enough, but his presence at the University was tattered and worn, the nights bringing no solace. He was sure he didn't make any good first impressions. He dreaded laying down on his pillow, knowing what was coming as soon as he closed his eyelids just long enough…
That was, until she came. A savior from his nightly suffering.
He had been sighing and nodding off during a summer meeting in preparation for the unfolding school year, his first year as a full time professor, helping lead the archaeology department in research projects and excavations. He was hoping the other heads of departments wouldn't notice his lack of attention. Seated between the heads of the engineering and mathematics departments, there wasn't much to be said, nothing to even chat about, nothing to keep him awake. It was a dangerous situation, his thoughts continuously wanting to drift back to what had occurred just last month, the end of the academic year…
He must have fallen asleep, as he felt no time had passed from his last jolting himself awake and when the meeting finally finished, knowing full good and well that it should have taken an hour or more. Yawning, he collected his folders and half-hearted notes (mostly scribbles) when he felt a thump on his back.
"Nice nap, Hershel?" bellowed Finneus Schroedinger, an engineer with an intellect that was almost the stuff of fiction. "Ha ha, don't act as if you didn't drift off! I caught ya, plain and simple! You missed quite the humdinger of a speech, didn't he, Claire?"
A round-faced quiet woman smiled shyly, waving off the boisterous man's comment. "Hardly, I'm not so sure anyone quite understood it anyway. As long as I have permission from the department to continue my research, I don't really mind if anyone was in tune to my babbling!" She giggled nervously.
"Hmm, what was it about?" Layton questioned with some interest. He liked her subtle modesty.
"Oh, just some things about M-theory, a couple of comments about time travel, here and there, nothing much really, it was all very…well, 'physics-ey', hardly anything interesting. You didn't miss much…"
"If you'd get me a copy of your notes, I'd quite like to look it over and learn what it was about," he said with a smile. It felt somewhat painful, as he hadn't smiled in a month, but it felt natural once more, almost addictive. "Sounds complicated, yet I'm sure it's nothing you'd have any problem explaining, correct?"
She blushed, shaking her head slowly. "No, no, I could help you understand it, certainly. Now, if you don't mind, I'm a bit late already for an appointment. If you'll excuse me." She scurried off, the tails of her lab coat fluttering behind her.
"A bit of a whackjob, that Claire, but they say she's onto something with all that time travel stuff she's spouting off about," Schroedinger sighed, trying at a whisper, but failing miserably. "Eh, it's not for me. I'll stick with the tangibles. Build myself a space shuttle or something like that. Say, Layton, how about a round of beers down at that pub that just opened? I hear they have a mean lunch special. Engineering is all going. Don't worry, we won't talk your ear off about the stuff that makes the world go 'round. We can stick with talking about the stuff that makes round the world, if you'd like!" he ended with a booming laugh.
Layton shook his head, a hint of warmth burrowing through his viscera, the most he'd felt in a month. It was as if he'd been dead, but was slowly was coming to, life coursing once again in his veins. "I'll just head to my office. I'm preparing for my new one, have to pack up and all…"
"That's right! It's not every day you become a full-time, head honcho! Best of luck to you, Hershel. As soon as you get settled, you'll be able to sleep again at night. I remember when I first started, a right wreck, I was! Well, see you around!" The large man bumbled away, raucously gathering his colleagues as he made his way to the exit doors. Layton smiled stupidly to himself, a childish sense of comfort wrapping around his brain. He wanted to see that woman again, wishing he had listened to her speech instead of falling asleep. She gave off a calmness that was confusingly electrifying, rejuvenating.
'Able to sleep at night, yes, I think I will, Finneus.'
And he could sleep. For 10 years, he slept soundly. And then a paper arrived in the mail. Blank. A vile contrast to his current state of mind.
Rubbing his eyes, he tried to forget the images and sounds that had forced themselves into his subconscious during the dream. Or maybe they were always there, only hiding, treading in the deluge he tried to drown them in, years ago.
'It's all her fault…why'd she had to ruin it…'
He walked from his room to the kitchen, finding Luke eating a bowl of oatmeal.
"You look rough!" the boy exclaimed between spoonfuls of his gooey breakfast. "Nightmares?"
"My neck's a bit stiff. I must have slept in a strange position." He massaged the back of his neck, groaning. "Well, Laura said she'd come by this morning. She hasn't stopped by, has she?"
Luke shook his head as he put his bowl in the sink. "Nope."
"Well, I need to get to work, so if she stops by, tell her I'll be expecting her around noon."
"Right-o, Professor!" He gave a small wave as Layton left the room, grumbling to himself as he went to clean up, not wanting to deal with whatever the day had in store for him.
A familiar knock rapped against the office door, making Professor Layton shudder as he was transplanted back in time to a more lenient time, a time when his expected visitor would come for review. He chuckled, grimacing at the word 'review'.
"Come in."
Laura poked her head in the door, bespectacled eyes smiling. "Hope I'm not too late?"
The Professor eyed his pocket watch lying on the desk. "A minute early, by this. Since when do you wear glasses?"
"You asked me this before. I told you, I rarely wear them. I can't see distances." She took a seat in front of the desk. "It's a bit different from your last office."
"Oh yes, how'd you find it?"
"I asked the front desk lady where I could find a grumpy, old rock lover. And I followed the smell of thousand year old sediment and bones, and it led me here!" she laughed. "Don't be so cross. It's all very much true."
Stuffing his stack of graded papers away, he growled under his breath. "I see you're still quite enamored with archaeology," said Layton, thick with sarcasm. "Much like the rest of the engineering department…"
"Oh yes, quite. I'd much rather blow rocks up than study them."
"As I really don't have the entire afternoon to waste, let's get down to brass tacks and address your problem. You led me to you at the ice cream parlor, after 10 years of being apart. Why?"
Her expression became more thoughtful, her eyes dour. "It was actually my last resort, contacting you. I don't have any other option, no recourse, and…well, regardless of our history with each other, you're the only person who can help me." She wrung her hands together. Even after all those years, she still nervously cracked and rubbed her fingers between each other when nervously thinking. "I could work it out myself, but I'm at a disadvantage. It doesn't always help, being intuitive and perceptive. People have caught on to what I know, and how I learn it.
You see, I work for a very interesting…company. You may have heard of it…"
The Professor raised his eyebrows. "The name?"
"Does…Petrolite Industries ring any bells?" she asked feebly with a weak smile. Layton's mouth dropped.
"The single most hated company in Great Britain at the moment? They are currently—"
"Yes, yes, yes, they've monopolized the oil industry in Britain. No one gets oil anymore unless it's through Petrolite. I'm well aware."
"You speak as if that's a good thing," he said softly. "It's left Britain a mess. Petrol is so expensive, it's almost impossible to buy it at the consumer level. And you work for such a crooked company?"
Laura nodded sympathetically. "I know all of this. It's not my doing, well, the planning portion of it, but it's been my machines that have made the company what it is. I engineer for them. You…you're quite abrupt, jumping at conclusions. You used to weigh in all the facts, before forming an opinion…"
The Professor wasn't sure if he was more surprised, impressed, or angry at her. Years ago, Petrolite Industries came out of no where and began buying up a significant portion of the oil industry, offering their reserves for a lower price compared with any other company or country that exported oil. This caused several other oil tycoons to go bankrupt or become prey to the young Petrolite business, and soon all of Britain was buying oil from them. Times were good for a while, but after taking on several contracted buyers of their oil barrels, the price was increased by over 200%. Consumers blamed those in the oil industry for their greed, accusing them of making a few more pounds at the expense of the people, and soon there was government and societal pressure on the company to drop prices. And they did, a good amount, but they still left Britain starving for the liquid commodity. Layton knew this, and Laura's involvement was close to unforgivable.
"Well, it's caused a lot of problems in the last few months," the Professor muttered, a low whisper on the edge of a growl. "Riots, aggression… People can't function without oil, it's a fact in the modern world. I won't pretend to be impartial about such a stinging problem in our society. And now you say you work for this…sham of a company. Supposedly family run as well! It was all calculated, and with such precision. It's very much on the verge of a crime, capitalism or not."
Laura gripped the edge of the chair cushion, biting her lip. "Well, as I said, I don't make the legislative decisions of the industry. I make their machines."
"Yes, unethically so."
"You're really in a position to judge me so quickly, you blithering idiot?" she yelled, slamming a fist on the desk. "Really now. Are you? Don't question my morality! 'Pull the plank from your own eye,' before you start telling me to remove mine. Why don't you let me finish, and then we can discuss our personal problems later, on a moral ground if that's what you want…Professor."
Professor Layton looked at her through squinted eyes. "You might not be my student anymore, but you're still 10 years my junior. You might do well to watch your tone."
"And you might do well to at least act as the gentleman you always toted that you were!" said Laura incredulously. "If you won't help me, then you might be dead before the end of the year! There's no telling what's going to happen if you keep up your narrow-minded harassing!"
He laughed, surprising the girl all the more. "Dead? That's preposterous, whatever are you going on about?"
"You already don't believe me. I can tell. I should have never come back to you…" Clenching her fists, she fought back the urge to scream, bottling up her temper so much that tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes. "And then that stupid hat. It's not the same one. What did you do with it, the one I gave you?"
"This was a gift as well. That's really all that's important about it," he said straightforwardly.
"That's all that's important? On what occasion was it given to you?"
"Oh, aren't you just nosy!" he said with some amazement.
"Who gave it to you?"
"Somebody."
"Somebody? Let's have this person's name!" She crossed her arms, furious. "Or is that not important about it either?"
His expression changed, almost frightfully so, as if the information carried a heavy burden along with it. He smiled, but gravely, sarcastically. "That…is very important about it. It was a gift from a…very good friend…"
"As was your other one! Who was it from?" she asked, her voice rising in urgency. It was killing her not to know, but she suspected that she somehow knew the person's relationship with the stubborn man sitting behind the desk in front of her.
Exhaling heavily, Layton slammed his hands, palms down, against the desk. "Since you're so curious, it was from a girlfriend. Are you happy now?"
"A name, Professor, let's have a name not a title, that was my ques—"
"CLAIRE!" he bellowed, rattling some tiny knick knacks and things in canisters along the shelves on the wall. "Her name was Claire! The hat's from Claire, it was a gift, she gave it to me because I was becoming a real part of the University, a major part of the archaeology department, and she believed it suited me. And then do you know what happened?" His eyes were burning, his voice wavering slightly. "She died. She died. She gave me the hat, went to her research, got blown up, and died. Now, is there anything else you want to dig out of me, or are we finished here?"
Laura sat in a daze, her bottom jaw hanging open slightly. She stared at him in silence, although she desperately wanted to look away. She felt like a deer in the headlights, unable to move, unable to reason that she was just bulled over with a ton of information, emotional information, angry even. He'd never screamed at her in the way he just did, with such passion, with an anger that wasn't characteristic of the Hershel Layton she was familiar with.
She swallowed, and began breathing again. She didn't realize she had been holding her breath.
"If she gave that to you…for the reason she did…that means… It was only mere months after leaving me—I mean, leaving Grissom's…"
"Yes, very astute."
"Ten years ago… Funny, how you could replace me so quickly. Or perhaps, you were already with her, when you were with me…?"
He shook his head. "No. I would never do that to anybody. Regardless of your opinions of me, I would never do something like that, being with two women at once."
"Then, it was my former conclusion. I was replaced…rather quickly," she whispered, as light as the dust hanging in the light from the sun. Tears, real tears, built up in her eyes. "I guess…I really am fragile," she said with a weak laugh. "I told myself, I'd never cry over you again…"
"What was that? I couldn't quite hear you."
Shaking her head, she rose from her seat, smiling, but forcibly. "When your world ends, and you're all alone, maybe you'll feel a portion of what you made me feel ten years ago. And maybe you'll also realize who was irreplaceable, and who was not, as I just have." She sniffed, laughing pathetically.
"Laura, I—"
"No. I don't want to hear anymore. I only have the comfort in knowing that I was true to you, and that I'm not so needy that I had to go use someone else, rebounding, using another to make my situation not so…miserable."
"How…how dare you imply—"
"Imply?" she said sneeringly, glaring daggers. "That's the truth. You used to love the truth. Now, as it takes a stab at your integrity, you grimace and wince. It hurts, truth. And in your case, it will kill."
He stood up so quickly, Laura thought he was going to jump across the desk at her. She turned around as he called after her.
"Laura, you turn around this instant and explain yourself! You came for a reason, so—"
"Good day, Professor."
"Laura, don't you dare leave this—office…"
He gawked at the closed door, wishing the items in his office weren't so valuable, as the want to throw something was almost unbearable.
END.
Hahaha. What a joke of a chapter.