Guilty Indulgence

Chapter 10~ Autumn Term

Mr Cain's POV:

After fiddling in my pockets of my chinos for my door key for some time; Amelie offered to hold my shopping bags as I was balancing them in my arms, however I recovered my key in time and twisted the key to unlock the door. My free arm pushed the door wide open, allowing Amelie to enter my flat. Creeeek!

Whilst placing my shopping bag onto the kitchen island, I scanned the room for any dirty laundry lying about. I'm a reasonably hygienic guy, but when in a rush to get to work on time, things are misplaced or not properly put away. Satisfied with the cleanliness of my place. I shrug off my denim jacket and place it on the door hooks, turning around to see her wandering and observing my flat with a mesmerising gaze as if she could see my soul, my secrets in my small living quarters. She picked up a book off a stack piled at the side of my coffee table, ran her fingers through the florescent coloured note tabs hanging on the side marking pages of importance and meaning to me before placing it back down. She's fascinating I could watch her all day and never bore; but to not look like a creep. I unload the shopping into its rightful place in the kitchen.

Once I had finished, Amelie was looking at herself in the mirror with pain across her face. Her hands gathered up the cape in a fist. She caught me staring and put a dazzling smile that knocked any sign of pain upon it. All I wanted to do was make things better for her, but I wasn't sure I knew how. I'm not sure if she needed me to?

"Why don't I find you something comfortable to wear?" I question, but go over to my wardrobe to find something suitable and to get her out of the clothes that must remind her of what transpired this evening.

"U-uhm that would be great," she mumbled, possibly unsure whether to accept my offer as I hand her a pair of grey shorts and one of my slim fit t-shirts. She's small so my clothes may look huge on her, I'm not sure. I pointed her to the bathroom so that she could change in privacy.

It's dangerous having her this close. She's, my addiction; a healthy one in the sense that it's not a hallucinogenic, well maybe a little as I'm sure imagining our chemistry. It's like the earth's magnetic pull or gravity put's us together. Snapping out of daydream before I allow my feelings to take action; this was not the time or situation for me to make a move. I shouldn't ever make a move on a student?

Amelie walked out of the bathroom. The t-shirt was over-sized on her and nearly covered the shorts I gave her. She looked like it had freed her of an immense burden by getting out of the little red riding hood costume; even though it suited her, to be honest. I didn't know how to act around her; knowing full well that I'm the grown-up doesn't help because she makes my insides all giddy, just like when I was a teenager. She's the mature one, she's also emotionally strong too. I can see that now.

"Pass us your phone, I'll stick it on charge." I spoke. She placed her costume on the back of the couch and fished out her phone within a pocket of the cape and into my outstretched hand.

It was only a millisecond of contact but electrifying; surprised her phone didn't spark to life with the electric charge that moved through us both. I know she feels the smidgen of passion that's waiting to be ignited between us as she tries to hide her lushes flushed cheeks from my gaze.

Whilst making my way over to the charger, which is plugged in the wall and above the kitchen counter; I battled with myself to sort out my feelings towards her as she doesn't need me and she doesn't want me. It hurts as I want her to want me and I want to be here for her, even if it means being in the friend-zone. My heart doesn't like that idea, but it'll have to persevere.

Thud...

The sound made my head swivel instantly towards Amelie; it was lightning-fast reaction to the dull thud sound; I thought she had fallen or something like that, but it turns out she hit the punching-bag hung up on the other side of the room. Phew, at least she is okay.

After I'd placed the charger in her phone. I made way over to her; to watch her try pummelling the bag. She seemed passionate about smacking the bag about with a thud here, a thud there in a one-two successive motion. I stepped in some distance behind her to pull out the punching-bag away from the wall as I had mounted it to a curtain rail track. It was, so the bag didn't collide with the wall with each punch. By pulling it out towards us meant Amelie took a step back to make room for the bag, but she went into my open body. She looked like she was about to stumble, but I caught her by the waist. Her stature was much smaller than mine, she was a little pea in a peapod. I don't know how to explain it, but she fits perfectly, her doe-eyed face tilted back leaning against my chest; peering up to meet my own eyes. They danced with unspoken choreography, as if well-known partners in sync or perhaps lost in the movements of the music.

"A-hem" clearing my throat and the tension at the same time.

Before, I did anything rash. I adverted my gaze, so I didn't lose sight of the boundary that has established through the teacher-student dynamic and moved away, leaving her warmth that radiated over me like an appealing sunbeam drawing me in to bask in its wonders. The punching-bag was between us now; I needed that obstacle to block the distance between us; holding the bag with my body so that it doesn't move about when she punches it.

"Try, punch with your thumb not tucked in or else you'll break it," I advised, hoping she takes my comments on as I don't enjoy seeing her hurt.

Her teeth, hands and face clenched in concentration as throw a couple of punches at the bag. Her stare didn't waver from one central spot on the bag, I could see that she was thinking of someone as punch landed after punch onto that certain spot. Perhaps it was the boys I saw dashing off earlier tonight, or maybe someone else?

"Stop! You'll hurt yourself" her punches became flailing towards the bag as her anger took over. These unprecise punches can cause injury to her.

"I'm fine, let's keep going,"

"You don't need too" I say whilst cutting between her punch and the bag. I wince as it was a good blow to my stomach, but I stood strong to appear unharmed. "I'll always be here to protect you" I added, bringing my hand up to her so that I could comfort her and show her I'm here for her, but she steps back away from me. Because of her withdrawal, I'm hurt... Am I that bad?

"Don't make broken promises, because I'm gullible enough to believe you" her voice sounded brittle, and her eyes wandered away from mine for a second but came back.

"Don't look at me like that," I mumble, my eyes pleading with her furrowed eyebrows and watery eyes. Begging them not to attack my good nature. I'm only trying to be there for a person who might need me.

"Like, what?" she snaps as if I've accused her of sinning. Her tone pierces me as I hold my heart together. Hoping to stay intact.

"Like you... don't need me," I held my breath as I look across her face for the answer.

"Well, I don't" I'm crushed, my mouth wide open in disbelieve as she turns and walks out my flat. Slam!

The door closes shut.

On me as I went after her. I punched the door. Fuck that hurt. It pissed me off, I've let a magical moment between us slip through my fingers. How could I have been so naïve to think I could be there for her? That she needed me? She doesn't. Clearly, I've got a stupid hero complex that thought he saw a damsel in distress. Well, I'm no prince charming, but I didn't realise I was useless. She is a strong, independent and fierce woman who doesn't need a hero to save her as she is already the heroine.

Her phone flashes to life. Dammit, how stupid am I?

She out there on her own without her phone and after the events earlier tonight. Why didn't I run straight after her? She could be in danger like earlier, and I've been here wallowing in my frustration.

I pick up my car keys and her phone and rush out to find her. To make sure she doesn't get hurt. It's the least I could do, Isn't it?  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Another Mr Cain POV, sorry it took so long to publish. Found it difficult to show the insecurities and the passion at the same time. What do we think? Is he kind or overbearing? Let me know what you think about the comments and don't forget to vote. Thanks, Ruzona <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~