After the performance, they filtered out into the lobby, borne along with the river of spectators headed for the exits, when a voice interrupted. “Ellsbeth?”
Rawlins turned along with her to see a handsome man in an ill-fitting suit.
“Oscar,” Ellsbeth said, clearly taken aback, and then self-consciously looked at him, unprepared to make an introduction smoothly. “This is, uh, my friend…”
“Thaddeus Rawlins.” He offered the young man a handshake, feeling the gaze appraising him as Oscar tried to suss out whether or not this was a date. “Nice to meet you. The…runner?”
“Yes, that’s me,” he said, visibly confused that Rawlins had heard about him at all. He looked to Ellsbeth. “So, uh…how have you been?”
“I’m good!” she said, nervousness making her overly effusive. “Just really busy. During the semester, I mean. Now, it’s nice to have some downtime, right? I like the winter.”
“That’s great,” he said. “I’m more of a summer guy. If I can’t get outside, I go stir-crazy.”
Rawlins watched the way Oscar’s eyes scanned Ellsbeth. He could see that Oscar’s interest in her had never completely waned; he was testing the waters, uncertain if there might be something to rekindle. It gave Rawlins a twisting sensation in his gut—not wholly unpleasant, but primal. Jealousy, he realized. The recognition of a rival.
“You might have seasonal affective disorder,” Rawlins said, keeping his tone friendly. “Weeks without seeing the sun takes a toll.” He shot Ellsbeth a sideways glance. “You should get a blue-light lamp. Perk yourself up with a piece of fruit or candy. Personally, I’m fond of licorice.”
The word had its intended effect. Ellsbeth closed her eyes briefly and swallowed hard, her body responding to the shock of the sudden orgasm while she did her best to hideit.
“Yeah, maybe,” Oscar said, puzzled by Rawlins’s suggestion and sensing a shift in Ellsbeth, though he seemed to have no idea what was happening.
“Well, it was great running into you,” Ellsbeth choked out, giving a friendly wave in an evident effort to avoid a hug before breaking off. Rawlins nodded a farewell to Oscar and followed her into the crowd.
“Terrible,” she said once they made it outside, but he could see she was barely suppressing a smile.
He shrugged. “If we run into one of my exes, you are welcome to do the same.”
“He’s not an ex. We went on, like, two dates,” she replied. “Which only made me realize how much I wanted you. And for the record,yourex is running the department. You really want me to humiliate you in front of her?”
He raised his hands in a mea culpa. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”
She looked at him incisively. “It’s okay. I like seeing your possessive side.”
“I am definitely notpossessive,” he replied. But it was undeniable at that moment that he wanted her to belong to him completely—and he felt both the joy, and the fear, that came along with that realization.
Ellsbeth
Rawlins’s sheets were deliciously cool, and Ellsbeth found that she preferred spending lazy mornings working from his bed, with her books and papers spread across his duvet. Rawlins deposited a mug of green tea on the bedside table and kissed her on the head. He read over her shoulder: “Orpheum rituals?” For centuries, theaters had employed arcanists capable of casting rituals for vocal amplification to ensure their actors’ lines would be audible to the last row. Microphones made the tedious and difficult ritual obsolete.
“Just trying to practice my ancient Greek.”
“Remind me to tell you about the summer I spent on Naxos. The heat from my sunburn could have powered the entire island.”
“Why are Orpheum rituals sohard?” Ellsbeth said, snapping her laptop shut. “They were doing them back in Shakespeare’s time!”
“Well,” Rawlins said, “they’re easier when you find the rhythm of them. They were originally songs. Hence Orpheum, after Orpheus—the singer, son of the muse Calliope.”
“Iknowwho Orpheus is,” Ellsbeth said, grinning up at Rawlins.
“Sorry, I got into professor mode.”
“Can I just say,” Ellsbeth said, taking a sip of her tea, “I always thought Orpheus was kind of an idiot. So he goes down to the underworld to save his wife, right? And then they specifically tell him,Don’t look back at her until you’re at the surface.That’s all he needs to do!Just don’t look back until you’re home and the love of your life is alive again. Simple directions!”
“You’vealwaysthought this?” Rawlins sat on the edge of the bed beside her and nuzzled into her hair.
Ellsbeth wriggled away. “Yes. I have. If I was Orpheus, I would have saved Eurydice, easily.”
Rawlins laughed then. “See, that’s where you’re wrong.”
