𝑩𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔 || 𝟏𝟖+
❝The secrecy adds to the trill, doesn't it?❞
The one where young student Grace finds herself in an illicit affair with attractive history teacher James-and ends up falling for him despite knowing she shouldn't.
「mcu...
𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐓 his reflection in the floor-length mirror on his closet door. His hair was messy, his torso lacked a shirt, and he traced the star tattoo's outline on his left upper arm with his weary eyes. A gulp led a lump down his throat before he quickly reached for a white t-shirt out of his closet. Halloween had never been his favorite holiday, but it seemed to have become unbearable now. He ran one hand through his hair to tame it and let his gaze drift up and down his new, fully clothed reflection. Sweatpants and a tee hid his toned body and the memory of his friend that he carried underneath his skin.
The doorbell ripped him out of his thoughts. Who could possibly visit him at such a late hour? A glance at the clock on his bedroom wall told him it was right about seven. Darkness had already taken over New York, the city he loved and dreaded at the same time.
He thudded toward the apartment door, taking a deep breath to prepare himself for the unwanted visitor. A neighbor in need of help, or possibly a salesman choosing the worst possible time to start his round? It was Brooklyn after all. The part of the city James could not bring himself to ever leave, even with all the trouble that came with living there.
He would've lied to himself if he hadn't silently admitted how just a small part of his brain was hoping for her to show up. He shut down this hope. There was no way it was her anyway. Taking one last breath, he pressed the button of the intercom that connected his penthouse with the building's entrance.
"Hello?" His voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat to get rid of the uncomfortable rasp in his windpipe. This had supposed to have been a calm, lonely night with just him and his thoughts.
"James," a husky, female voice reached his ears, vibrating through the speakers next to his ear. His hand automatically ran through his brown strands again, trying to make his hair look as orderly as possible. Did he look like he just spent an hour in a trance, staring at the ceiling above his bed in between restlessly rolling around? He surely hoped he didn't.
"Wait, I'll let you in," he sighed, one beringed finger holding the buzzer. Nervousness spread through his abdomen. And not a good one. It was a dizziness that made him realize just how weird he still felt in that woman's presence. The kind of dizziness he would prefer to not feel too often. But this week, he knew, that was unavoidable.
A bit later, he leaned in the doorframe of his opened apartment door, arms crossed, waiting for the late-night guest. Heels clicked on the stone-lined stairs as she made her way up to the penthouse floor. He cursed his building for not having an elevator. How much quicker she would have been up there with him, leaving him without a dreadful waiting time with that awful feeling of his guts churning inside of him...
