FEEL

46. Epistrix

Epistrix ~ a disconcerting cluster of endings that seem to happen all at once

~ The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows ~

~°~

He's not mad at me.

Or at least it doesn't appear that way. He appeared relatively normal when he walked into the kitchen while I had a cream cheese bagel for breakfast the very next morning. He even muttered a quick, "Good morning" as he made his way to the coffee machine to start up his coffee.

I say it back, slightly reserved and a little perplexed. I'm having too many mixed feelings about yesterday. Back then, I had felt so wronged by him for telling me to leave and taking Mrs Bradfield's side, but right now it sort of felt like I was the unreasonable one.

I look up at him as he retrieves a cup from the cupboard, his back to me. He's fully dressed and ready to leave for school, hair neatly combed, wearing an apricot classic knit polo sweater tailored to grasp his frame with about enough passion as a lover reluctant to let go. I'm forced to swallow my food without even chewing properly when my mind wanders off to that moment in his office, to the feeling of his body close to mine.

I can barely feel the pain of my throat stretching to accommodate the only half chewed bolus as it pushes down my esophagus, too enthralled by his firm, tall frame.

He turns around just as my gaze lowers to his tailored light gray trousers. I force myself to meet his eye.

Cameron tilts his head sideways ever so slightly, the angle causing light of the morning sun to shine along his eyes and draw shadows in the perfect places to accentuate his finest features. “Are you alright?” he asks me.

His voice awakens all my senses. I can only nod my head in response. Desperately, I try to clear my head of tne cloud of lust obscuring my thinking.

“How did you sleep?” Cameron says while he sets his cup next to the coffee machine.

This time, I muster, “Fine.”

The word doesn't leave much for conversation, but he seems to accept it. He then half leans half sits on the island facing me, causing me to forget what I was doing in the first place.

I quietly clear my throat. “I'm sorry about yesterday,” I decide, saying the words more effortlessly than I thought that they would come out.

“Which part exactly?” an eyebrow rises.

“My outburst in front of Mrs Bradfield. I know that she's your colleague and I should have been more respectful.”

He nods his head. “I'm glad you realize that.”

“But she was also out of line. She was flirting with you. And she accused me of being on my period, which was patronizing.”

“You're not?”

My glare shoots to him. I take in his visage, hoping sincerely that he's playing some sick joke. He isn't. My nose flares, heart smashing so violently that I feel it thud against my temple. To resist banging my hands on the counter like a little child, I ball my fists instead.

“I'm not,” I grit out, “You know that I'm not. She was only saying that to belittle me. And you played right into her little game, staring at her boobs like that.”

Cameron shakes his head and says, “I didn't do that.”

“I saw you.”

“I don't recall it, then. She's a married woman, I wouldn't-”