I've seen Perfection

Part nine

I've written during my four-hour break on campus today! It's short and I think you can tell that I wasn't completely concentrated, but however - I had to use it now that it was there...

Hopefully, you'll enjoy it anyway...love you;)

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Mrs Hughes had spent most of the next day in busy occupation, eager to avoid the person she usually longed to see more than any other. She had followed the urge to leave when she had quitted his room the evening before, but the sudden departure did definitely leave matters unresolved, questions unanswered and her mind uneasy.
How to treat him when they met? Would he expect an explanation, an answer? How should she talk to him at all when she didn't even know what had actually happened? She felt as if her brain wasn't able to absorb and organize the events properly, the conversation that had occurred like a blurred memory of another person, not her own. There were times when she wasn't sure if it had actually been real, or if it was just a dream, a dream that had turned into a nightmare.
Marry me, he had said. How often had she imagined this... she couldn't believe it, a moment of shocking, surprised, but blissful happiness - so fragile and nondurable.
Because it was not what she had wished for. Of course it wasn't. She knew him. She knew how he was, who he was. She knew him to be someone who hated change, always clung to the familiar.
Familiarity. Used to. Accustomed to. As far away as most of the conversation seemed in her head, those words stuck out as clear as day.
She couldn't accept his offer under such circumstances, couldn't even consider it, could she? No, of course not. It wouldn't be fair. Not to him and neither to herself. Then why didn't she just tell him? Reject and get it over with? Back to normal, hopefully, instead of this ridiculous game of hide and seek she had been playing the whole-

"Mrs Hughes." She was startled from her thoughts by the voice of the very man himself. She had been so lost, hadn't paid attention to where she was going and nearly bumped into him in the downstairs corridor.

"Mr Carson", she greeted shortly, making move to go on as quickly as possible, but he detained her by gently stepping in her way. He had been waiting for their paths to cross the whole day, a question burning on his tongue after she had left so hurriedly the day before - what was he supposed to make of such a behaviour?
"I don't want to press you", he carefully told her now, "you should think about is as long as you need, but...I wondered if you had thought about our conversation?"

"I have indeed", she replied, trying to sound light-hearted. "There was hardly anything else on my mind, to be honest."

"And may I ask if you've come to any conclusions?"

"Conclusions?" She couldn't suppress a little disbelieving laugh. "Far from it, I'd say."
The look he gave her seemed sincerely disappointed - now, with him looking at her like this, she couldn't bring herself to deny him right away, she couldn't, even if she had wanted to.
"I'm sorry, Mr Carson", she said instead, "but I really don't know what to make of it."
If I can't put an end to it, I have to let him know my doubts, at least...

"Don't you...", he said, eyes lowered to the ground, his voice matching the disappointed expression.

"No", she said truthfully - there was no point in pretending otherwise. "Not at all."

"I believed it was rather a question of yes or no", Mr Carson stated to her astounding. He couldn't actually believe that it was so easy, could he?

"But there's so much more to be considered, isn't there?", she held against him. "You can't just make such a suggestion and expect me to give you an answer right away." Although I should. It would have been reasonable, would probably spare both of them a lot of painful waiting and uncertainty. She knew that she should, and yet, she didn't.