Strength and Sensuality [Completed]

31 - Talking hands

I'm practically frozen. Mr. Warren needs to pick up the files, my folders, my bag, and usher me to the door. My feet refuse to cooperate the way they should. They're trembling, even when we're sitting in his car already. I see my knees jumping up and down, no matter how hard I try to keep them in a straight line. He sees it too, probably, because just a few corners away from the courthouse, he pulls over.

"What's the problem?" he asks, turning to me.

"We're going to be late," I answer. My voice is shaky too. Not sounding like my usual self at all.

"Probably." He shrugs. "But you don't have to worry about it. I have to. So. Let's start this again. What's the problem?"

"I'm sorry," I stutter. "I lost track of the time."

He just nods. Yeah, he probably noticed it without my help already.

"I know I made a mistake," I ramble, feeling my tongue fumbling with the unfamiliar words. "I know very well that I can't let myself feel too comfortable, I have to be alert all the time, because it's the way things are done, right? But it's so tiring, so... while I know, I shouldn't relax at work, and... I absolutely shouldn't tell you this, because it's even less wise than to relax at work, but... yeah, it happened. I gave myself a break."

He looks at me as if he was waiting for the other half of the story. My blabbering has made little sense to him, probably, but I have nothing more to say. So we just sit there, looking at each other in silence for a while.

"Good." He nods, after a long pause.

"What?!"

"It was time. It's not a war zone. It's a fucking office."

I stare at him as if he grew two heads.

"Maybe your timing is not the best," he goes on, "but it certainly won't be the first time I go in there unprepared."

"But now it's my fault," I say, sounding a bit hysterical.

"So what?" he sighs, reaching for the ignition key. "You never came across as an overachiever."

"Yeah, I know. Everyone has the right to fail, just don't make it a habit. But if I let my mind relax, I most certainly will make it a habit. Which has consequences."

His hand is halted mid-motion, as he turns to me again, with a bewildered look.

"Did I scare you?" He sounds concerned. "You, of all people?"

I shrug. I really don't feel like telling him the truth.

"I can't believe it," he goes on. "There must be something else."

I want to look away, but he's too close. Even a luxury car can't be wide enough when you want to lie.

"Hey," he says gently. "Did I scare you with all that bullshit I said? I didn't, did I?"

"Yes," I tell him. "Or no. I don't know. I can't even focus."

"What are you scared of?" He looks me deep in the eyes.

"That I forget the ending I made up!" I blurt out. "This sucks so much! If I step back to reality, I forget it. If I don't step back, I can't help you with the trial. So I'm split! It feels like being stuck between two rooms, with the doors closing on you again, again, and again!"

The moment I utter the last word, I hear the bells of a nearby church. The trial has started.

Mr. Warren sighs and picks up a random paper from the documentation of the case, which is forming a messy little heap on the backseat, reminding me of the fact that I failed even to put them in any kind of order.