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“Conor, how did you get here?” I asked.
He smelled like motor oil. Like black slick highways. Like bitter wind. Had he driven here? All the way here? In the night? Through the night?
“Aurnia, please,” he said, eyes on fire just like his skin as he tried to cling to more and more of me. “I was wrong. I read your application and— I don’t want to be in the ash. I don’t want it on my tongue. I want you. I want you on my tongue.”
“Excuse me, sir?” Dr Walsh asked in the shocked voice of the highly respectable.
A grin came to my lips. “Conor, I—”
“This place isn’t where you belong,” he interjected with his voice a desperate plea. “You belong in Dublin. At Dublin Ink. In my bed and in my arms and all around me. All around me like that morning. That morning, I want that morning. Again and again and again.”
“Sir, this is a respected institution of high—”
“I’m done pushing you away, Aurnia,” Conor said, pulling me to him. “I’ve been a fool. I want you close. I want you as close as I can get you. I want your glistening skin against mine—”
“This is extremely inappropriate!”
“Conor,” I said, trying to not laugh, “just let me say one—”
“I want your breath against mine, your screamed name against mine as we come together.”
“Sir!” the dean rose to his feet, chair scraping the floor to punctuate his indignation, “I will not tolerate—”
“I want to rise to you, Aurnia,” Conor exhaled like they were his final words.
His breathing was rapid in the ensuing silence. His eyes flicked between mine like he was awaiting a life sentence. I cleared my throat, hid back a grin as best as I could.
“I was actually just about to answer Dr Walsh’s question before you, um…well, before you joined us,” I said. “He asked if I truly wanted to attend the Limerick Art School.”
“And?” both Conor and Dr Walsh asked at the same time.
My two roads, forking.
I looked at Conor and smiled. “I was just about to say…fuck no.”
Conor exhaled like he’d held his breath all the way from Dublin as he drew me into his chest, arms shaking but sure around me.
Dr Walsh, in a flat tone, said, “Get the hell out of my office.”
