Guilty

Ch-2

The airport was unusually calm today. I have never seen it look so calm before. It felt as if this was the calm before the storm. The entire world was preparing for the arrival of Professor Nathaniel Greyson. I stood there waiting for him like a good chauffeur so that he might grace us with his presence.

I had gotten this duty as a part of my job. Normally I would never have done this even for a VVIP client but Vince insisted that there should be someone familiar to greet him. I however suspected that I was here to save face and support him in case the media decided to do something funny, like hound him all the way back home. The media people could be worse than bloodthirsty dogs and the professor would definitely be overwhelmed by the chaos. Making any wrong move would be a PR nightmare for the firm. Therefore, I was pleasantly surprised to find not even a small crowd of people at the airport.

The announcement was made for the landing of his flight and I waited for him to make an entrance. I had to admit that I was pretty curious to see him, to see if he looked the same, to see his reaction to seeing my face. I waited for him to appear with a secret smile on my face.

The irony of the situation however was not lost on me. I was waiting for him. Always. It WAS NEVER THE OTHER WAY AROUND. Even halfway across the world, we were connected by an invisible thread forever trying to pull us together. I had tried time and again to run a blade through that thread. But it refused to snap and now five years later, here we were again, the same team, fighting the same battle together, only this time with the thread in my hands.

I had just pulled out my phone, to check my email, when I looked up and my eyes collided with a pair of dove-gray ones.

My world stopped.

All sounds faded into white noise.

I released a small breath at the sheer intensity of that gaze.

One which I was too familiar with. Those same eyes which had made love to me over a cup of coffee every morning. Those same eyes which had looked at me with pride when I had written a brilliant essay. Those eyes which had held my world and also watched me burn.

I had not even looked at all of him and yet I felt as if I was coming apart at the seams because that was his hold on me. That was what happened when you give your heart to someone for safekeeping and he returned it to broken, bleeding and shattered.

I forced my gaze away from him with physical force. I resealed my walls. Then I looked at him again. He could see the coldness in my gaze then.

Professor Greyson did not look the same any more. His once tanned skin had grown pale as if he had shied away from the sun. His Grecian physique had become considerably leaner though it was clear that he still worked out every day. His inky black hair was carelessly mused from the flight before. He clearly had run his hand through it many times before. That patrician nose followed by bee-stung, full lips were just as I had remembered. It made him look haughty and untouchable. His face of course was all angle, chiseled by a master artisan with utter devotion. All in all, the professor looked mighty fine.

He could still make my heart race. Clad in a three piece navy blue suit with a red tie and expensive shoes, the professor looked like a fashion icon than a nerdy academic.

He drank me in for a moment and then cleared his throat and started walking towards me again.

"Sultana..", he whispered, his voice soft with wonder as if he couldn't believe that I was standing in front of him in flesh and blood.
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