Nocturne(55)

“I haven’t taken anything away, Savannah. I do love you.”

“Stop saying it!” I stepped out of his grasp and ran a hand through my hair as I walked out of the bedroom and headed down the stairs, trying to distance myself from the oncoming tears.

I heard him sigh with a little growl at the tail end of it as he followed me down the stairs. That better not have been directed toward me. He was the one ruining everything.

“I need you to leave.” I hated that my voice shook as I spoke the words. I reached for the doorknob, but his hand stopped me, fingers wrapping tightly around my wrist.

“Don’t do this, Savannah,” he pleaded, tilting his head to the side the way he had before he kissed me last night.

“You don’t do this then, Gregory. Don’t tell me we have to leave what happened between us upstairs.”

I knew if I didn’t blink then the tears couldn’t fall, and he couldn’t watch my heart breaking all the way down my cheeks. But, we all have to blink sometime.

Gregory grabbed me and pulled me in, holding my head against his chest. “You know we have to, Savannah. At least for now.”

I nodded. He was right. There was no way we could continue while I was still in school. I scrambled around inside my brain, searching for a way.

“You … you’ll still work on the piece with me, though. Right?” I was committing emotional suicide inside my request, but there was no other way for us to be … an us.

“Are you sure?” He held me at arms’ length and seemed to be studying my face.

I nodded my head, rapidly, unsure of my words. I chewed on them for a moment, and then I said, “Just … one thing. You never … asked me how long.”

“How long what?” He gently shook his head in apparent confusion.

“You didn’t ask me how long I’ve been in love with you.”

I reached for the doorknob again, allowing us onto the porch and into the thick late-August air.

He swallowed hard and looked past my shoulder for a split second before meeting my eyes again. “How long have you … been in love with me?” It was like he was afraid of my answer, the way he had to pull his own words out of this mouth.

Leaning forward, I took both his hands in mine, looking up just slightly, and waited for his eyes to fall on me. When they did, I took a resolute breath. “I think always.” With a puzzled look on his face, he looked like he was going to respond, but I cut him off. “Let me finish. I remember staring at you during my audition. I knew who you were and I knew how tough you were. I wanted to get in, more than anything, but I also wanted to impress you. Then I didn’t see you again until class last semester. I still had this desire to make you notice me, to make you notice my music. Then, you hated me.”

“No, I never hated you, Savannah. I was just—”

“Falling in love with me,” I whispered.

He just nodded.

“So, what now?”

He sighed. And my stomach sank as he reached up and moved a piece of hair out of my face and tucked it behind my ear. “Now? Now we practice together. We spend the year preparing you for your senior recital. I can help you work with Madeline to select pieces to audition with, if you’d like. But, we respect each other. I respect your position as a student, and you respect mine as a professor. We move forward cautiously and responsibly. No surprises. You’re a student.” He seemed to be reminding himself of that measly little fact any chance he got.

Grasping at straws, trying to fight my way back through the wall he was slowly rebuilding, I blurted out, “Not for another two weeks.”

“What?”

“Until classes start again. Not until we start practicing together. I’m not a student for another two weeks.” My tone may have sounded slightly panicked.

“Savannah, I don’t see what that has—”

Before I could think further than the next ten seconds, I shook my hands from his and placed them on either side of his face, pulling his lips to mine. His lips were tight as he inhaled sharply through his nose. I wasn’t letting go. Not until he kissed me back. He exhaled slowly, his shoulders sinking as he ran his hands up my sides and wrapped them behind my neck. As his fingers knotted gently through the back of my hair, his mouth opened slightly. Just barely. It was enough for me to deepen the kiss, so I did. A soft and low moan, barely audible, vibrated from Gregory’s throat as he pulled me in even tighter, his soft tongue gently caressing mine.

In two weeks we would have to pretend. To ignore how we felt. I wanted to perform with him, without question. But, during those few seconds kissing him, I had the fleeting desire to walk away from everything and run off with him. With that thought I hastily pulled away from our kiss, resting my forehead on his, both of us breathing heavily. Before either one of us could say anything, before we could even open our eyes, the shutting of a car door kicked us back to reality.

Madeline. Shit.

Gregory dropped his hands to his hips and looked down, closing his eyes tightly as if trying to wake himself up. Unfortunately, this was no dream. Madeline was walking toward us quite calmly. Rather than cross my arms in front of my chest as if I’d done something wrong, I stood a little straighter and gave her a smile.

“Good morning, Madeline.” My voice was embarrassingly squeaky.

“Morning, Savannah. Gregory.” Her tone was darkly playful.