Hearts and Bodies- cmbyn

Part One

I was working late that night, grading papers and avoiding taking the time to mourn my father on the anniversary of his death. The janitor asked if I would be much longer, as he wanted to clean my classroom and go home, and I decided not to inconvenience him with my presence much longer. The sky was dark outside and the old buildings surrounding me seemed much more intimidating than when I had arrived that morning. Most mornings, I cycled to work, but today, I had woken up late and had to take the bus. Before I could begin to make my way to the Bushaltestelle, my body stiffened at the feeling of a hand on my shoulder. I prepared myself to throw my wallet in the opposite direction and run, though couldn't seem to remember if it was in my pocket or in my rucksack. Did I even have time?

"Entschuldigung...?"

I turned to see an unfamiliar man smiling at me. I relaxed a little, seeing that he seemed more vulnerable than I did at that moment.

"H-Hallo?" I stammered.

"Bist du in der Musikhochschule arbeiten? Do you work at the music school?" He questioned

"Yes."

"Englisch?" He asked, and I nodded, "Maybe you could help me find some information? I'm looking for someone who may have been a former student."

"How long ago? I've only been working here for four years."

He chuckled at me a little, "I believe he may have been here before your time."

The man wasn't too much older than me- he could've only been in his late forties or early fifties at most. In fact, his face was still handsome and rather youthful, with the only thing giving him away being his salt and pepper stubble and the deep-set wrinkles in the corners of his gunmetal eyes. It had been a while since I had felt so young in someone else's presence after teaching for many years, yet he managed to make me feel so without being condescended. Wisdom with kindness.

"How long ago? This is a very old institution..." I smiled.

He smiled too.

"The 1940s."

"Ah." I chuckled, "I'm not sure I can be much help to you now. Perhaps tomorrow you could come back when the college is open and we could look through some records?"

His smile widened; his eyes brimmed with tears.

"Thank you..." He whispered, his voice hoarse, as if a great lump was swelling in his throat.

"Bitte schön."

I'd expected him to say his goodbyes and walk off his own way after that, but instead, he hesitated, looking me over.

"Are you driving?" He asked, chewing his lip.

"No. Err... mit dem Bus."

"Would you like a ride home?"

I really did. Any other night, I might have insisted on taking the bus just to keep to myself, but tonight was cold and dark and dreary and, quite frankly, I liked the idea of getting to know this man. He led me to his car and opened the door for me before getting into the driver's side himself.

"Ich heiße Michael, by the way." He introduced, reaching a hand out to me. It was warm and soft and gentle when I shook it.

"Elio." I told him.

"Elio." He repeated with a smile, "Spanisch?"

"Italienisch."

"I should have known- you have that look about you."

"That look?" I challenged.

"Beautiful."

A man that could so casually call another man beautiful dazzled me. Michael was secure and charming enough that this was no more than a casual compliment. And I adored it.