Marcus and I

Chapter 5

Euanthe's POV

A moment passed between us as we looked at each other. Unsure of what to say next I found myself stifling another smile. This whole time I was so wrapped up in thought I hadn't been paying much attention to how truly handsome he really was. I couldn't quite comprehend why he would take interest in someone as insignificant as I was at the moment. It was constantly terrifying and invalidating to exist as I am now. But if I never left my comfort zone, I would never be more than I ever am now. A philosopher forced to be silent. Both fates were unsettling.

"Euanthe," he eventually repeated, "What a beautiful name."

"Thank you," I bowed slightly, "It was inspired by my grandmother."

"It means blooming, or well-flowered, yes?" he inquired.

"Yes, though, I think I have yet to bloom," I joked.

Marcus shot an exaggerated glance at me, "I don't think so, but we shall agree to disagree."

I took a slight breath in, and almost involuntarily released a shaky laugh. I wasn't quite used to attention in the manner, especially from someone of this status of education. I reminded myself that this change could mean moving ahead and away from where I feel stuck now. A sense of bravery overcame me, "Would you like to come back tomorrow?"

He looked at me in a way I don't think I'd ever been looked at before. There was a slight apprehension but simultaneous amusement that emanated from his eyes.

"But, there is no lecture tomorrow," he eventually responded with a confused smile.

"We could work on next week's lecture tomorrow," I automatically replied, the words falling out of my mouth. Realizing I had just let my secret slip, I wished I could take the words back.

He looked surprised and took another moment to respond. I may have ruined everything for my father with one little sentence. What was he thinking?

He finally answered, "I think I would like that. I have to ask my mentors if it would be alright with my schedule, but none of them could stop me anyway."

"I'll be here at mid day," I sighed with a mixture of relief and uncertainty. I thought I had made a grave mistake, with that one little sentence, but instead, may have created the perfect opportunity to slowly introduce him to my philosophical mind. I was already planning which texts we would discuss and how we would go about building the lecture as a duo. I had never let anyone else but my father in on my thinking process and was a tad worried about Marcus's philosophies and if they would clash with mine. And would I dare ever tell him the extent to which I write my father' lectures?

"I'll be here, as well," he assured, looking into my eyes, "What did you mean by work on next week's lecture?"

"I meant that we could find something to compete with my father's lecture tonight or add on to it," I sucked in a breath, hoping that I was telling the truth while also not revealing too much.

"Oh, well that sounds quite fun," he answered with a hint of excitement, "You know, I've never actually heard a woman speak on philosophy. I wonder if you have a unique perspective due to your gender."

"I like to think that my gender does not shape my capability with philosophy, but yes it most certainly changes my perspective," I admitted. I thought for a second before I spoke again, "I believe we sense our world in a biased manner, often shaped by the ways in which we are treated by others and in turn, how we are perceived. I, as a woman, will always be presumed as nothing more than that. A woman. And while I am a woman, I am so much more than just that. It is only the simple minds that cannot see past their presumptions and misconceptions. And it is up to me to act in such a way that does not compromise who I am despite the social subjugation I may suffer."