Her

Part 28

 I couldn’t help but grin a bit as I pushed open the doors to the classroom, nearly bouncing with each step, my carefree, exhilarated joy surrounding me, palpable. Yesterday had been so perfect. She had at last allowed me, invited me, to do more than merely kiss her – as much as I treasured our kisses. We hadn’t gone there yet, but oh, how I had hoped that she might one day get to the point where she was able to. With me.

She had been jumpy under my slow, careful hands, but I would kiss her neck, her shoulder, her forehead, hold her and murmur that it was me, and she would breathe again. I had felt her beautiful, tense body relax and respond to my voice and touch, and my heart had ached for her pain and fear. How I wished I could erase the memories that sent jolts of fear through her body, the body which was only now healing from the bruises she’d attained last week, the body, the body that had been violated and abused and beaten into submission, the body I cherished so. And so she was afraid – not of me, but of being touched. Kissing me had been a monumental step for her. She could only associate pain and terror and helplessness with being intimate. How I longed to change that, help her heal, make new memories with her. Better ones.

And we had. I had gone over each precious moment with her as I had lain in my bed last night, ensuring that I would remember every detail, ever sensation, every whisper of her breath upon my warm skin, every lingering caress, every kiss. Even now, just being in the same room as her, caused my skin to prickle and my muscles to tighten as my body remembered hers. I took my usual set on the left side of the room, three rows back from the front, and set out my notebook and pens, acutely aware of where she was, perched once again on her desk. It felt as if my entire being strained to be beside her; it took every ounce of self control I possessed to remain in my seat. As it was, I couldn’t keep my eyes from darting up to glance at her, and an exultant smile unfurled from my lips when I saw that she was looking at me, too, as distracted by me as I was by her. At the tone of my smile, she bit her lip, and my smiled widened, enjoying the new way she looked at me. A warm blush creeped into her cheeks, and I nearly burst with pride at being the one who had put it there, that life, the light in her eyes. With further euphoria, I noticed that her hand twitched, before she clamped her fingers down on the edge of her desk, with the effort it took to remain in place, to stay apart. But we did, though never too far, and our eyes met often. We stayed apart – for now.