Ethically Speaking

3.7

•-Elijah Fields -•

"Mom, Thanksgiving isn't for another month."

Quincie lifts a hand to excuse herself from the living room. Wandering to the bedroom, she sits on the mattress and Max is quick on his feet to follow. Plopping down beside her, she runs a hand through his coat as she speaks on the phone with her mum.

I give them privacy as I take to doing the small number of dishes we'd left behind this evening. My eyes glance over her every so often as if expecting her to vanish into thin air.

Moments before her mum interrupted our conversation I had a curious feeling wondering if the words she meant to say were on a deeper romantic level.

Maybe not, but I couldn't help but wonder.

My feelings for Quincie are unlike anything I've felt before. I rationalized with myself that I was just attracted to a student of which it is heavily inappropriate in my field of work. But that my feelings for her were all just an attraction, not infatuation, and certainly not love.

But now as I watch her mindlessly care for my dog and look comfortable while doing it, I can't help but wonder if those previous feelings I felt were indeed intended for falling head over heels in love with her, of which I am entirely certain now that I am helplessly falling for her.

I take to distracting my thoughts as I finish the dishes when Quincie ends her call and joins me at my side.

"Everything all right?" I ask as I hand her the small saucer. She takes to drying it almost autonomously and we fall into some sort of comfortable rhythm as if we'd done this a million times before.

"My mom's a bit neurotic when it comes to Thanksgiving. Nothing too important."

Her shoulders shrug and I watch as her chest rises and falls with the movement.

I take a much-needed breath as I turn my attention back to the task at hand.

"You're telling me it isn't even Halloween and your mums got herself in a twist over Thanksgiving? Bloody hell," I shake my head amusedly before finishing up the last of my dishes.

"It's the only meal she cooks herself. And the only holiday we typically spend without a crowd. Besides Christmas morning, everything is about networking and making impressions as the perfect family. Which I think you can attest to, we're very much dysfunctional in our own right."

I drain the sink just as Quincie finished drying off the last of our dishes.

My hands are still covered in soap, I don't miss the opportunity to dot her nose with a large number of bubbles.

A soft giggle vibrated Quincie's chest and her nose scrunches as she smiles.

"You, my love, are as dysfunctional as they come. You're dating your bloody Professor for God's sake. Where are your morals?" I make sure to come off as teasing because I would never want her to think low of herself or her actions. Actions of which I too am actively pursuing.

Thankfully she takes no offense as she wipes away the soap from her nose. Pawing at it like a feline, she smiles fondly.

"I suppose right around the same place as yours, Dr. Fields. Dating a student is highly inappropriate and I'm sure the repercussions are dangerous."