The Professor's Secret

22. A Sleepover

"This should do perfectly! Thank you so much!" Sycamore nodded as my mother arranged him a bed in the living room, between the sofas. I watched from the stairs with my arms crossed.

"Now make yourself at home! And if you feel hungry, you can go ahead and grab anything from the kitchen – no ceremonies here!!"

"Thank you so much, madam! Enjoy your night of sleep!"

My mother lingered a little longer after that, probably looking for a way to casually approach and receive/offer a good-night kiss without making herself look like even more of a fool... But Sycamore tactically kept afar, and I only then acknowledged another one of his clever social skills: he could put people at a very intimidating distance by flashing the same polite smile as usual, only this one was accompanied by a cold something that I didn't know from where it came...

Mom passed right by me on her way up, with a visibly hot head after perceiving he showed himself no more intimate to her than he had been during the dinner. I looked back at him.

"Now, won't you come and wish me a good night, too?" he warmed up immediately – more than that! I could almost see the steam surrounding his skin as he activated the predator-mode.

"I can do it from where I'm standing!" I replied angrily and, turning around, went to my room.

"And yet you haven't!" I heard him raise his voice enough to reach me upstairs. This one I answered with slamming my room's door.

----

Either because Professor Sycamore – That professor Sycamore whose smile bewitched and scared me the very first time I met him in a laboratory, where I expected to meet an old fat man – was sleeping downstairs, in my living room; or because both said professor and my mother expected me to resume my journey tomorrow, sleeping was impaired that night. Instead, I lay in the dark with my arms crossed under my head, looking at the ceiling of my room and sinking heavily into wondering. I had absolutely not forgiven Sycamore for what I had found out about him... but five days had passed, rage had more than subsided by then, replaced by a bitter taste in the back of my tongue and a stress in my throat every time I remembered him – his face, his smile, his touch and how I unwillingly adored each of them... and how the whole had wronged me! And it was reminiscing over the unfortunate day I met his eyes and permitted them capture me so, that the gloomy hole inside my chest grew a little deeper – the seams presented new cracks, and they each ached like a brand-new cut, a small sample of the bigger one I had that day as I walked away and he smiled behind me, unaware. I was, after all, chosen because I was Grace's daughter... That wasn't a big secret, as he hinted something of the sort on the occasion of our meeting... But becoming his protégée for the very same reason? I felt shamelessly lied to...

But after all, I never told any of this to Sycamore, and he clearly detected all the extension of my hostility towards him... Could he be thinking it was all because of Calem? If so, what was he making out of that? He was visibly upset; annoyed, to say the least, throughout the entire dinner. I could swear a few more minutes of staring intently at me while my mother talked away in his ears would make him burst!

And what about now? I could bet he was down there, lying with his hands under his head like I was in my room; thinking, just like I was thinking, trapped outside of sleep with me, under the very same roof. I hated the fact that he was there... I hated that he wanted to take me back... but I mostly hated the thought that tomorrow morning he would be gone, with or without me.

I got up, and silently walked downstairs.

The living room was of a navy-blue hue with the faint moonlight stealing through the kitchen windows... If I stopped my own, I could hear the professor's soft breathing filling the air. I walked around the couch, looking to see him: He was there, of course, and while looking at him, doubting such fact didn't seem silly at all: it did feel like a dream!