The Mathematician (Book 1)

7. The Exception Of The Rule

After our disagreement in his office, I decided to eat dinner in my own room. I hadn't felt like any company. Instead, I spent most of the day to myself, simply just reloading my mental energy and going over what he had said in the study. 

Was it really as simple as he said? That all I had to do was choose how much focus I was going to put into my emotions and that would be that? Maybe it could work to some extend, but I stood by my own words as well; Eventually it would all pile up, all the un-dealt-with emotions. I also couldn't help but feel if my emotions were the sacrifice I had to make for moving up in the world... I wasn't so sure I wanted to move that much up.

Harry was a brilliant man, there was no doubt about it. He had achieved a lot in his 32 years, but he had also vastly spent the majority of those years inside and in isolation. That was also indisputable. He might've been the smartest person on earth when it came to math, but when it came to emotions, I wasn't so sure he was the best to take advice from. Granted, I didn't know enough about his personal life to make that decision yet, but until I did, I wouldn't be sure about taking advice from someone who had had no public relationships according to the world. I knew he was a private guy... but did his privacy come because of natural causes, or as a highly selective participation in society?

The talk in his study had given me a lot to think about, but for the sake of being interested in my future, I tried his advice; I tried as much as I could to push it all aside for the day and focus on my studies, and right up until after dinner, it actually worked.

The only reason why it stopped working was because there suddenly came a knock on my door.

I was sitting in my bed, almost ready to call it a day since the clock showed 10:45pm, when I heard a knuckle tap against the door to my room. I frowned a little and lowered my book, but nonetheless called 'come in' when I recognized the knock. It still didn't dull the surprise when I saw him enter my room, closing the door softly behind him. I never would've thought he would be the one to crack first.

I slowly closed my book when I saw him turn in the light from my bedside lamp, which was the only light still on. I had been reading a little before bed like I always did, but suddenly I had a feeling I wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon.

"Hey," I said, seeing him pocket his hands and walk a little closer towards me. He looked ever his calm self, yet... thoughtful right now. I watched him carefully as he stopped a few feet from the foot of my bed.

"You didn't come down to dinner tonight," He then said. I raised a surprised brow. That's how he was starting?

"I didn't think you'd notice," I replied, laying my book away on my bedside table and then folded my hands. "what, with being busy with your work and all that."

A muscle in his jaw ticked, but other than that, he didn't move. He instead shifted his gaze towards my window where the drapes were closed for the night.

"I know I can be rude," He then started, causing me to raise both my brows this time. That was an understated confession. "And I make no apologies or excuses for it. When I said I was disappointed in you, I meant it."

I pursed my lips ever so slightly, but didn't show any other affections than that. "I think you made that perfectly clear."

"I don't believe I made it clear why that was, though," He finally said. He turned his eyes towards me, catching my gaze.

Pressing my lips together, I then gestured for him to continue with a tilt of my head. "Do elaborate, then." Although I wasn't so sure I wanted to know the specific ways I had disappointed him.