Sins On The Skin

VII.

Gwen let him manhandle her all the way to his office but kept her chin high and focused straight ahead, letting any passers-by know that she was allowing him to touch her like that.

To drag her by the hand like a ragdoll.

It was a shame that the halls were deserted, the students long gone.

No one was left to witness the scene.

Pity.

Every synchronised step they took boomed too loudly. Her heels made that awful clanking sound, that always irritated her, while his Oxfords remained relatively quiet.

The sound was so distracting, in fact, that she contemplated throwing away all her heels the moment she made it to her apartment.

Gwen didn’t even realise when they reached his office. She was distracted by the sounds, by the warmth his touch offered so selflessly, by the way his grip was tight enough to make a statement and not to actually hurt her, the way Seth used to hold her when she had said or worn the wrong thing.

When she left.

When she came back.

Every time he wanted, really.

Snapping out of it, Gwen saw the professor open the door quickly. He gestured for her to move inside, the thought of releasing her never crossing his mind.

And yanking her arm away never crossed hers.

But, perhaps, it could be argued that she was still too caught up in her memories or that she was just admiring the decor.

Perhaps.

Perhaps not.

The interior was cold and yet harmonic. Out of order but still completely balanced. Steel grey walls and black furniture appeared magnetic but hardly inviting on their own. Nevertheless, when combined with Nathan they could be described as tenebrous and vulgar but goddamn beautiful.

However, it would be much more appropriate to admit that the characterisation did not actually involve the office, which was nothing but an extension of its owner’s character and style. No, it was all about Nathaniel.

For a few seconds they just stood there. Silent, peaceful, strangely comfortable.

Half a knock on the wooden door disturbed the silence before it was destroyed completely by a lanky, brown-haired intruder who looked mildly familiar and who had decided to barge in without a second thought. “Sir, I have my the-”

“Peters. Out. Now.” Nathaniel bit out every word, not giving the poor kid time to finish his sentence, his grip on Gwen’s arm tightening.

“What? Why?” He didn’t pay attention to Gwen. It wasn’t even certain if he had noticed her presence. He was too busy clutching a worn notebook in his hands, his knuckles turning as white as the pages from the pressure he was applying.

“Because the world does not revolve around you and it’s not going to just because your brain started working for once.” Was it terrible that she wanted to laugh? Was it awful that she found his character charming? It probably was.

The boy, Jeremy, mumbled something unintelligible under his breath but did not argue. “I’ll call you later to set up a meeting, then. I’m sorry for interrupting you professor.” Without another word, Jeremy walked out of Nathan’s office.

Muttering something under his breath, Nathan released his neighbour before taking a key out of the back pocket of his suit and locking the door.

“Could you please explain why we couldn’t have this conversation in the amphitheatre?” She inquired, her tone even, if not a bit bored. Gwen did everything she could to appear disinterested but Nathan wasn’t the type that fell for such theatrics.