the po~et 19 (tennis anyone?)

Jack rushed to get to campus Monday morning. She had anticipated all day Sunday Paul's reaction to the books. She carefully wrote a note to him in a card choosing her words as not to sound too forward. She had always been pursued now that she was actually initiating contact was a new experience and she wasn't quite sure she knew how to do so.

As always, when she enters the building that houses his office anxiety takes over. As many times as she has visited him, she is still nervous like a silly teenager. That has been the one thing she has attributed to her infatuation with Paul, she seemed younger--re-vitalized. Her mind reset to a new way of thinking, no a new way of living.

When she opens the door he is quite surprised to see her (she hadn't given him forewarning of her visit) but he is pleased. She wanted to look and smell especially nice this morning. She was hoping that he would notice her efforts.

When she saw him she was almost speechless, but she had promised herself she would allow words to form and be released from her mouth. He was pleased with his gift, she was relieved. His eyes always told how he was feeling and for her to see satisfaction in them made her want to hide in them. To lock that moment away and store it in a trunk where moths couldn't come and corrupt it.

Then Paul does something he had restrained himself from in times past, he rises from his desk and hugs her. His body towering over hers offered a semblance of protection. The kind of protection that would keep her warm at night and delighted in the morning.

When she left him she could still feel his body against hers. As she walked away, her body responded to his touch and her heart followed, she was content with having made her move now the ball was in his court.