“Crying is nothing to be ashamed of,” he tells me, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Crying is weakness, just like love.” The words come out like second nature, a pull cord saying that was beaten into me as a child, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“I’m just sick of crying,” I tell him, waving off his confused look before he can ask more questions. “I just needed somewhere safe…”
I think about it for a second before I amend that, because it’s not like I came here for the office.
“Someone safe.”
I don’t know who moves first or if we both move at the same time, but honestly, I couldn't care less who’s responsible as his lips brush mine and that feeling of belonging intensifies, filling me with so many more emotions that I fear I might just burst.
And then reality sets in.
I just kissed my professor...
Scratch that, I’m still kissing him.
I pull back hard enough that I nearly tumble to the floor, but he manages to keep me in his arms as he looks me over, as if worried something is wrong with me.
And it is, obviously, so incredibly wrong because as I look back at him, all I can picture is doing that again.
“I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I won’t say anything. I—”
My rambling is cut short when he leans back in, once again pressing his lips to mine and shutting me up.
This kiss is gentle, just a simple brushing of our lips, but it’s enough to make my heart race and my breathing labored.
He pulls back this time, and all I can do is stare.
“Don’t be sorry.”
“But…” So many things run through my head, but the biggest one is he could lose his job, and I’m sure I’d probably get in some kind of trouble too.
“Don’t worry about any of that, whatever is going on in that pretty little head.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, and I swear I nearly melt into a puddle of goo. “So long as you're happy.”
His lips drag over my skin before he pulls back, looking down at me, and it takes me a minute to realize he’s looking for confirmation that this is what I want.
Is it?
I take a second to look at him and wonder why me before I push the thought away. I’ll never think I’m good enough, not for him or anyone else. But even knowing this can’t possibly last or end well, I can’t deny I want this—him. I want someone to run to, to feel safe with, someone I can kiss and feel like I belong, not like I’m a burden.
I’ve only ever had that once, and it was so brief...
No, thinking of him now is a terrible idea. He doesn’t deserve more of my time than I’m already giving him. Ever since hetexted me back a few weeks ago, I’d been dreaming of him, of that one night we had, but it’s time to move past that.
Instead of answering, I lean in and press my lips to his cheek. When I pull back, he has the most adorable smile on his lips, and I can’t help but smile back.
“Well, maybe we should just have our meeting now since I’m already here.”
“I don’t know. I think your coming back might be a good idea.” He wiggles his brows at me, and I chuckle, leaning in to rest my head on his shoulder again.
I’m not sure this will work out. Well, actually, I’m almost positive it won’t, but it feels good, easy in a way I’m not used to.
“Come on, we can talk about Jordan and your classes,” he says, moving past his desk to the little sofa he has against the far wall, dropping down to sit with me still in his arms.
I try to move away, but he only holds me tighter, and my cheeks ache from the smile that’s still pulling at my lips.
We spend the rest of the day right there on that couch, talking about classes, how my extracurriculars are going, my roommates, and Jordan. I cry more, but when I finally leave to eat, after taking twenty minutes to convince Dimitri I can’t go with him to eat at his house, I feel lighter, happier, and like maybe, just maybe, I can survive these next two and a half years after all.
