Post by TartanPhoenix on Aug 30, 2006 10:18:49 GMT -5
Rating: Good for the board.
AN: JUst a little something before I leave for class.
Postcard
She fought to control her breathing as he pushed away. The heady smell of leather still surrounded her, and she could feel the heat of his lips as they had hovered over hers. Looking at him, she could feel her heart sink as his clouded eyes reflected his horror. His face had flushed beneath his short auburn beard, and he was sure she would see his heart pounded against his ribs. She took a step forward, but he only recoiled farther into the desk behind him and let out a strangled, “Don’t!”
His reaction only served to bolster her confidence and she took another step forward. His hand came up to ghost across her cheek before his eyes became pained and he pulled away. Hers’, which had mirrored his actions, didn’t. “Minerva, we can’t; I won’t!”
Her thumb brushed his lips. “Why not?”
“I’m a teacher; I’m your teacher! I can’t.” His breath hitched at the loss of warmth as he pulled her hand away.
“You are my professor for thirty-six hours. Can you truly say this isn’t what you want? Have I misread the looks, the way you’ve stared during meals?”
“Whether or not I want you isn’t the issue. You are too young.”
She snorted and looked away for the first time, but he forced her to turn back. “I want you to live Minerva. I want you to travel and to learn; I want to receive a postcard hearing about all you’ve done, the people you’ve met.”
His eyes were pained again. “I want you to feel the rush of young love and the invincibility of it.”
He wiped away the tear that slipped down her cheek. “And, if in the end, I’m what you truly want, after everything else, I will be waiting.”
Eight years later found him standing on the entryway as a single carriage stopped. Her long hair was pulled back in a French braid, and her form fitting robes showed how little she had changed. She was gorgeous. A confidence she had lacked literally rolled from her in waves as she approached him and set her suitcase down beside them.
“Did you get my postcard?” she asked before capturing his lips with her own.
AN: JUst a little something before I leave for class.
Postcard
She fought to control her breathing as he pushed away. The heady smell of leather still surrounded her, and she could feel the heat of his lips as they had hovered over hers. Looking at him, she could feel her heart sink as his clouded eyes reflected his horror. His face had flushed beneath his short auburn beard, and he was sure she would see his heart pounded against his ribs. She took a step forward, but he only recoiled farther into the desk behind him and let out a strangled, “Don’t!”
His reaction only served to bolster her confidence and she took another step forward. His hand came up to ghost across her cheek before his eyes became pained and he pulled away. Hers’, which had mirrored his actions, didn’t. “Minerva, we can’t; I won’t!”
Her thumb brushed his lips. “Why not?”
“I’m a teacher; I’m your teacher! I can’t.” His breath hitched at the loss of warmth as he pulled her hand away.
“You are my professor for thirty-six hours. Can you truly say this isn’t what you want? Have I misread the looks, the way you’ve stared during meals?”
“Whether or not I want you isn’t the issue. You are too young.”
She snorted and looked away for the first time, but he forced her to turn back. “I want you to live Minerva. I want you to travel and to learn; I want to receive a postcard hearing about all you’ve done, the people you’ve met.”
His eyes were pained again. “I want you to feel the rush of young love and the invincibility of it.”
He wiped away the tear that slipped down her cheek. “And, if in the end, I’m what you truly want, after everything else, I will be waiting.”
Eight years later found him standing on the entryway as a single carriage stopped. Her long hair was pulled back in a French braid, and her form fitting robes showed how little she had changed. She was gorgeous. A confidence she had lacked literally rolled from her in waves as she approached him and set her suitcase down beside them.
“Did you get my postcard?” she asked before capturing his lips with her own.
!!!*