#professor stein

The wood floor creaked below you, filling the silent library. Each click of your heel echoed off the shelves as you peeked around. "Hello?"

The box of your belongings was getting heavier by the minute, and the memories of your school days seeping from the walls were threatening to choke you. You found the front desk, the current librarian sitting half-asleep in his chair. You cleared your throat and he jumped awake. Sputtering out apologies and greetings, he showed you to your new desk as 'assistant librarian slash head librarian in training.' The current librarian was planning to retire and Lord Death wanted someone younger to replace him. Given your recent graduation from university and your diploma from the DWMA, he was thrilled when you applied.

You weren't exactly a great student back at the academy, but you had your moments. You coasted by with ease on all your requirements, one of the few to ever ace P.E. with a 100. Your trouble came from your Weapon training. You nearly failed every assignment, test, and mission that involved transforming into your Weapon form and working with your Meister. After barely graduating, you wanted to go to university. Your Meister wanted to stay at the academy and help Lord Death. After a massive fight about it, you parted ways. You had barely tapped into your Weapon form since, only turning your hand into a sword every now and then while prepping dinner or opening mail. You understood the facts of Soul Resonance and all that, you just couldn't put it into practice. When you'd begged every teacher for help, all of them said it wasn't about the facts, it was about the soul. You hated that.

You unpacked the few belongings you'd brought at the desk, taking your time. There was no rush. There never was in this place. You'd spent a lot of time here in your school days, studying in the upper levels for hours and hours. The head librarian was chattering your ear off about this and that, but you weren't listening, too busy arranging your sticky notes by color. He left you alone to settle in, grabbing his briefcase and hightailing it out. 'Retiring soon,' Lord Death had said. You didn't see the librarian again after that morning. Sighing, you started flipping through the paperwork he'd left you with. It was quite extensive. Unsurprisingly, the DWMA is a dangerous place to work. As a faculty member with — kindly put — no way to defend yourself, you had a lot more waivers to sign. After completing all the paperwork, you placed it in a folder and tucked it away, planning to submit it to Lord Death later that day.

You had a few students come in looking for books, but they seemed to know what they wanted and where it would be, so you only had to check their IDs. The previous librarian didn't put a lot of emphasis on keeping the place tidy, so you spent your first few days reshelving books and dusting shelves. You didn't mind. The mundane repetitive activity was relaxing enough to get by. At the beginning of your second week, you had a group of five students come in for remedial lessons. They were meant to clean and organize the library as a punishment for trying to steal answers to a test. They came in grumbling, barely flashing their IDs.

"The most help I'll need is on the third level. You're all dears for helping with this!" You called after them, but they didn't seem like they wanted to be dears. Their teacher followed behind them, leaning against your desk. You looked up at him and your heart stopped. You'd seen him once before, but he was new to teaching this year. Doctor Stein was a recluse usually, one of if not the most talented meister alive. "Remedial classes?"

He hummed in response. "Figured the help would do you some good. I've heard how hard you've been working to clean this place up." You tried not to think about who was talking about you to other teachers. "Death didn't want me to experiment on them, so this was the next best."

You studied him. You tried not to be too intimidated. The stories were terrifying and he certainly maintained that sinister, 'mad scientist' look. But something you didn't remember was how handsome he was, underneath the scars and stitches. His grey hair fell over his sharp features graced with an almost permanent smirk. You tried to keep your eyes from following down his neck to guess at his physique underneath the lab coat. You pulled yourself out of it, but you weren't sure he hadn't noticed. You introduced yourself, offering a hand to him.

He shook it firmly. "Professor Stein."

He stood by your desk for the whole three hours he kept the students there. You suspected there was somewhere else he had to be, but apparently not. You didn't speak much, sometimes getting up to help a student or to rearrange a display, but always returning to the desk. He gathered the students and sent them out, almost lingering at your desk. He opened his mouth to speak but seemed to think better of it. You watched as he retreated, posture poor from all the years leaning over operating tables and hunched over computer keyboards. You stood, wandering to the third level to inspect the students work. It was better than you expected. They'd put their hours to good use. You'd have to let Doctor Stein know they deserved a better grade for it. In truth, you weren't sure you wanted to see him again. The fear and intimidation weren't lost on you. He made you uncomfortable. But, God, he was intriguing.

–

Doctor Stein had visited the library six times in the past ten days. He had a very large reading list, encyclopedias and textbooks and essays that he finished in a day, back to return them and get new ones. By the twelfth day, he was offering to help you work. You turned him down, sending him back to his classroom. By the fifteenth day, you knew his class schedule. After all, he was spending almost all his free time with you, still making up excuses. By the end of the first month, you had decided that he was indeed, too old for you. He had nearly twenty years on you. It didn't stop the fast crush that was forming.

He came in one day looking for an anthology of essays on paleontology, for whatever reason. Lately, you tended to walk with him to retrieve the books, rather than sending him off alone in the right direction. This particular book was on a high shelf, where neither could reach. You sighed, grabbing the ladder and pulling it to you. You insisted he didn't need to, but he held it anyway as you climbed. He was mainly focused on your hands and where the book was, until he accidentally glanced up your skirt and suddenly couldn't look anywhere else. You weren't wearing shorts under the skirt, it being long enough not to worry about exposing yourself. Stein, being directly below you, had a clear view of your perfect legs and the curve and swell of your ass, barely covered by a green lace thong. He, against his will, imagined himself under that skirt, taking that very thong in his teeth and sucking on it as he ran his hands over the soft skin of your thighs. He pulled himself together as you started to climb back down, focusing on anything but his half-hard cock hidden under his lab coat. When you handed him the book with a smile and that soft way you called him 'doctor', he had to remind himself of your age. His desires weren't appropriate, even if you were both faculty members.

A couple months in, you had mostly given up on those reservations. He kept showing up, and you were becoming rather close friends. At least, close for coworkers. You were sure he wasn't really reading all these books he was checking out in two days, just looking for excuses to come in and talk to you. You didn't say anything about it for a while, not wanting to scare him away. You still were holding onto hopes that he'd eventually see you as an adult rather than a DWMA graduate. At least he was never your instructor. That would be hard to shake.

You seemed to spend most of your days at the top of a ladder with your arms full of books, which confused you. It didn't seem like students were checking out enough books a day for the shelving to be so endless. Not only did it confuse you, but it was also infuriating. You knew it was your job and all, but there must be a safer way than standing on the top of a ladder with nothing to hold on to and 15 pounds worth of textbooks resting on your hip. You hadn't fallen yet, and that was what kept you doing it. A voice called your name from the first level, and you didn't dare look down. You were perfectly balanced, and even the tiniest shift of your weight would probably kill you. Maybe Doctor Stein could bring you back as a zombie, like Sid. The thought of the intimacy of reanimation had you distracted. His warm hands steady, cutting into you with a scalpel on his operating table. The ladder wiggling slightly brought your thoughts back to the present quickly. "Down in a minute!" You called, without looking.

"Need help?" Doctor Stein's cool, deep voice carried up the shelved walls.

"I'm almost done, don't touch the ladder!" You knew he tended to want to hold it steady, but any movement would throw you off. Reaching up on your tiptoes, you slid the last book into the correct spot. You carefully climbed back down the tall ladder, jumping down the last few steps and nearly toppling over. Large hands caught you at the waist, steadying you. "You were all the way up there yet you trip when you're standing on solid ground?"

"Be glad, Doctor. At least you were here to save me. Checking me out again?" You leaned into his touch without meaning to or noticing and tried not to frown when he removed his hands.

"Careful." Was all he managed to murmur, not meeting your eyes.

"Oh, relax, Doctor. I'm teasing. What can I help you with?" You stepped backwards, brushing dust off your skirt.

"I'm looking for this book; it was written by—" He held out a piece of paper with the title, but you interrupted him.

"You checked that out three weeks ago. In fact, I remember you returned it late, because it took you 'so long to read.'" He froze. It wasn't typical that someone would notice something before he did. Maybe he should start reading the books he was checking out. You were too quick, too sharp to fall for his tricks. You tilted your head the way you did when you mocked him. "If you want to see me more - or rather, more of me - you could just ask."

He was searching for a response when a student pushed through the doors and called out your name, craning her neck to find you. You winked at him as you left him in the middle of the room, still frozen. You had already moved on to an entirely new conversation, unaffected by your words as if you'd never even made the joke. If it even was a joke. He crumpled his scrap paper and tossed it in the trash as he left the library.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Doctor!" Your light voice followed him out the door, his shoulders tensing. Of course, you would. He hurried back to his classroom, already late for class. He ended class early, something he never did, and barely made it home before he was gripping his cock, fucking into his fist and groaning out your name.

–

A couple weeks passed before you saw Doctor Stein again. Perhaps you had flirted too much, too obviously.  You'd scared him off, that was it, and he suddenly had no need for books anymore. Unfortunately, this little tolerance break he was taking was pushing his borrowed books into the overdue territory. Soon, he'd fall into a habit of late fees and eventually, revoked library privileges. Seeing as you only ever spent time with him in the library, you didn't want him to be away any longer. In all seriousness, you missed him. You didn't have any other friends and work got quite boring when you didn't have a shadow following you around all day. Stein's ghosting break was partially due to an unfortunate uptick in his struggles with Madness, as well as the shame he carried for getting off to the thought of you. He was ashamed the first time, but in his absence from you he found that getting off to his memories of you was a growingly familiar pastime. The feel of your waist in his hands, the swell of your thighs, the sound of your laugh. It was sick, he knew it was. He couldn't find it within himself to stop, or even care. Day after day he came in his hand, cum dribbling off his wrist and wetting the fabric of his pants.

The first time he saw you since the first time he jerked off to the thought of you was in the halls of the academy. You didn't usually wander out of the library, but Spirit had requested a book and you took it upon yourself to come deliver it. Doctor Stein frowned. You'd never sought him out to deliver something. He decided to follow you, to protect you in case Spirit made a fool of himself. He followed turn after turn, down hall after hall until you reached Spirit's classroom. He heard the familiar voice of his old partner, filled with the excitement of seeing you. Stein ground his teeth. Your voice held the same tone, light and joyful and kind. The closer he got, the more he heard of the conversation.

"...a long while to find it, because a student had left it on the ground on the third level!" You laughed, and Stein's mood soured even more. He knew this possessive behavior would have to stop, but he couldn't help it. "It's nice to officially meet you, I only know about you through Doctor Stein."

He almost cringed, knowing that was absolutely not the thing to say to Spirit. The other man floundered for a reasonable and normal answer, but came up short.

"He's actually here with me, he followed me here and thought I didn't know. How cute is that?" You giggled. Stein sighed. Of course, he should’ve known you were too smart to be fooled. You leaned your head back into the hallway. "You coming?"

Stein reluctantly joined you, placing a hand on your lower back out of reflex. "Spirit." He nodded in greeting, but the other man had already made an excuse to leave. You propped your hands on your hips and turned to him.

"Why does he fear you so much? I've seen you in action together, it's mesmerizing. How come you're not together? I mean, as partners. Fighting partners!" You scrambled to correct yourself, curious enough to keep up the question.

"Mesmerizing, huh?" Doctor Stein smirked, taking a long drag of his cigarette. "I didn't know you felt that way."

"Shut up. I was..." You were about to say 'I was a kid and anything was mesmerizing', but were still trying to avoid acknowledging your age. "Easily impressed. I only saw it once, but it stuck with me. You're a fantastic meister, I won't deny it for the sake of being coy. Answer my question. What happened between you?"

"It's a story for another time. We... fell out and split. He took on a new meister and I've been dedicated to science ever since."

You weren't convinced, having seen your previous meister only twice in your employment and both times running away before they could see you. You didn't see yourself ever working with them in the future. Stein and Spirit had this undeniable chemistry, a perfect balance in battle. There really wasn't a word other than hypnotic to describe the vision.

"Don't consider yourself off the hook, Doctor, I'm too curious to give this one up."

He leaned in close, quick enough to surprise you. "If you're really that curious, I think Spirit would be willing. As you say, we're fantastic together."

"What are you— Oh." Your cheeks went red at his implication. "Don't tease me, Doctor, it's not nice. I didn't mean that and you know it." You tried to push past him, but he was too strong for your shoulder to move him in any real way.

He called something after you, but your face was burning and you were already halfway down the hall. You stormed back to the library, slamming the door shut behind you. You scanned your to-do list and began the most arduous task —inventory. You disappeared into the aisles and levels for the rest of the day, heading straight home. After a small dinner and long shower, you talked yourself into going out to a bar. Death City didn't boast much nightlife, but you weren't exactly going out to have fun. You had big plans to get shitfaced. It was a Friday night, and the library wasn't open until Sunday. Your one day off would be best spent hungover.

Going to a bar alone wasn't something you had done much. In college, you were surrounded by your friends, and it wasn't hard to round up a few others to go out any day of the week. In Death City, you had just about one, and you weren't exactly happy with him. Dressed up just a bit too much, you started your walk downtown. You stopped to buy a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Not your usual vice, but it was one of those days. Tucking them into your purse, you wandered a little more.  You had no idea where to start, completely unfamiliar with the city's scene. You hadn't even snuck out to a club in your later years as a student, too busy with extracurriculars and useless Weapon practice. You ducked into the busiest bar and marched right up to the bartender. After ordering a beer, you leaned back against the sticky bar to take in the crowd demographic. Definitely older, not a lot of dancing. But you liked them older and you didn't feel much like dancing. After four beers and some number of shots, you paid and stepped outside for some fresh air. Leaning against the brick of the building, you stomped your foot, however childlike. You were upset with the doctor and his mocking. He'd embarrassed you and you didn't plan to forgive him soon. You needed something to get your mind off it.

That thought was how you found yourself on the back of a stranger's motorcycle, on the way to his hotel. In your defense, he wasn't a complete stranger. You shared a cigarette and he introduced himself. You knew he was a professor of physics visiting from... somewhere out of town, you forgot. You knew his brother was a meister, who was why he was in the area, and that he was forty-seven years old. He had a motorcycle that he was always working on, and had a stupid dream of quitting his teaching job to be a mechanic full time in Death City with his brother. You knew that you'd encouraged him to follow that dream, and asked to see his motorcycle. You also knew that when he offered to take you back to his hotel, all your blurry, swimmy vision could take in were his dark eyes, stubble, and strong build. Your eyes decided that was enough, and you hopped right on behind him.

You leaned your head against his back, tightening your hold on his waist, causing his ab muscles to flex against your arms. A bad idea in hindsight? Yes. In the moment? The best idea since sliced bread. You reached the hotel. Moments after stepping off the motorcycle, your stomach turned. You made it three feet into the parking lot before throwing up your whole night. "Fuck," you muttered, spitting. "I'm sorry."

The man, whose name you'd forgotten minutes ago, came up behind you and rubbed your back. "Don't apologize. Anywhere you want me to bring you?"

Your mood soured even more. Of course you had to throw up and now you wouldn't even get to fuck this great guy. At least he seemed great. You didn't even really know what his face looked like. You forced down another gag, and stood up straight. "The Patchwork Lab would be great."

He looked at you, bewildered, but didn't seem to have much energy to argue. After all, he was also drunk. He drove you all the way to the doctor's house, just outside the city. You'd never even been there, but your foggy brain decided you couldn't go home. Not without talking to Doctor Stein. The bike pulled up in front of the doors and you thanked the man, apologizing again. You didn't bother knocking, pushing right inside. You didn't take in your surroundings much, just crashing around in Doctor Stein's living room, trying to find him. You didn't register that it was the middle of the night and any healthy and sane person would be asleep. Everyone knew that didn't apply to the doctor, so you stumbled around until you found a door with light coming out from under it. You slammed open the door. Doctor Stein was at his desk waiting. He must have heard the commotion from the other room. He didn't seem to be too concerned, less so once he saw your face. He sighed, taking off his glasses to clean them. "What are you doing here at this hour?" He didn't really even seem mad. More resigned and a tinge disappointed.

"You have to know 'm mad. With you. You embarrassed me today. A lot." You wobbled on your feet, almost tripping on air. He stood, guiding you out of the room and setting you on his couch. "An' I threw up, and 's your fault. All your fault." You didn't get much of a chance to explain, because you threw up again, all over his couch pillow. "Fuck."

He rubbed your shoulder, crouching down to meet your eyes. "I'm sorry for today, for embarrassing you. It's hard to set boundaries for myself. Especially when it's you. I'm going to tell you this because you're very drunk and won't remember this in six hours. I can't stop thinking about you. All I want to do is kiss you, every time I see you. I wish I was kissing you now. I wish I was fucking you, bent over my desk and all my lab reports, your throat in my hand. And I know I'm too old to think about you like this, and I'm so goddamn ashamed of myself. But, God, I can't stop. You have to tell me to stop."

You looked up at him, eyes hazy, still wiping bile and drool off your chin. "Then do it. Kiss me or fuck me or whatever you want. Do anything to me. Please, Doctor. But I'm going to throw up again, if that's alright." You didn't wait for an answer before retching again, this time all over your lap.

He ran a thumb over your cheek, deep in thought. "You can't say things like that. You're very drunk. Let me help you feel better."

You were almost giddy as he swept you up into his arms, running your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. He set you on a large bed, taking off your shirt. He tried not to marvel at your perfect skin. An impeccable canvas, begging to be marked up with stitches. You started wiggling out of your pants, but were surprised when another shirt was dropped onto your torso. A too-big plain tee, pooling at your hips. You looked up at the doctor, frowning, but he was taking off your shoes and pants with such gentle and attentive care that he didn't notice. He helped you slip into a pair of shorts and led you to the bathroom. The excitement and hope that he'd be fucking you was dwindling, almost completely gone. You let him wipe the spit and bile from your chin, clean your makeup off with a wet towel, and kiss the top of your head before leading you back into the bedroom and tucking you in. You wanted to thank him, to apologize, to yell at him, to pull him right down into bed with you. Instead, you fell asleep immediately. He set out a trash can next to the bed and retired to his lab, leaving the door ajar so he could hear if you woke.

He was so fucked.

–

Sunlight spilled through a crack in the curtains, landing on your face. The hot morning sun had you squirming in discomfort before even opening your eyes. When you did, you sat up quickly. Two things hit at once: the shock of an unfamiliar room and a massive headache. You leaned over the side of the bed and gagged. There was nothing else to come up. There was vomit on the ground next to a trash can that had been set out for you and a bit on the sheets. You cringed. Getting up slowly, you hobbled to the bathroom. You took a long shower before facing the day. You remembered rare parts of the night. Having far too much beer, making the mistake of following it up with liquor, meeting a man, getting sick, ending up at Doctor Stein's house, and – you weren't sure if this was a dream – the doctor kissing the top of your head. It was a good dream. It wasn't something you'd expect him to do. Too familiar, too domestic. You emerged from the bathroom in a towel, finding the bed stripped and sheets replaced with a shirt and pair of sweatpants folded atop it, waiting. Something in your chest pulled. It was too kind of him to take care of you like this. You couldn't deny it was turning you on. If you had a sliver less self-respect, you'd be in his lab choking on his cock, calling him 'daddy' to thank him for taking such good care of you, but you were too hungover to trust that you wouldn't throw up at any gagging. You wandered out of the bedroom, looking for the doctor. He was making coffee in his clearly barely used kitchen, pouring the steaming liquid into a cracked mug for you and a conical flask for him. You smiled at the choice. He handed it to you, fingers brushing as you took the mug in your hands.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, his voice gravelly from hours of no use.

"Terrible. Better after the shower." You sank down on his couch, closing your eyes to stop the constant spinning. That made it worse. “I’m sorry for last night. I shouldn’t have come.” You rolled your eyes at the light laugh he huffed out. “You know what I meant, don’t be crass.”

“On the contrary, I’m glad you did. I watched that man drop you off. I’m much happier you spent the night here than wherever your original plans were taking you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I don’t know that it’s your business, but I agree. He was nice, but not…” You didn’t let yourself finish that sentence, moving on as quick as possible to avoid questioning. “I should get home.” Doctor Stein looked like he wanted to pry, but only nodded, helping you gather your things. He offered to take you home himself, but you denied, insisting you were feeling well enough to walk. The fresh air would do you good, get the fantasies out of your head. You only hoped you could keep them out.

–

Heels clicking down the hallway, you ducked your head into each classroom. You didn't know exactly which classroom Doctor Stein taught from. Almost each one was empty, which wasn't too shocking considering the late hour. There were voices floating from the last room at the end of the hall. You carefully peeked in, to see Sid with a student in high distress over their grade. He was trying to calm them, but you knew exactly what they were feeling. Sid looked up at you, his face breaking into an almost relieved smile. "Hey! What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

"Sorry to interrupt," you leaned against the doorway. "I'm looking for Doctor Stein, have you seen him?"

Sid nearly rolled his eyes, a teasing smile crossing his lips. "He went home a few hours ago. I'm sure he wouldn't mind you stopping by."

You huffed. You hadn't planned on walking all the way to the lab tonight. It was late, and you could just do this in the morning. An extra twelve hours wasn't going to change anything. Unfortunately, you were working on being more assertive and confident, and figured this confrontation might be good for you. You knew visiting the doctor's house so late at night might be counterproductive to your pathetic attempts to get rid of your ridiculous crush, but there was something deep inside you that was thrilled at the implications. "Thank you, Sid." You mumbled, waving as you headed back to the library. Packing up all of your things, you slid on your coat and locked up.

Pushing the outside door open, you were met with a pitch dark night, complete with pouring rain, wailing wind, and deafening thunder. Now, you really didn't want to add the extra fifteen minute walk to the lab to your journey home. However, work was work. And you wanted this book back. And your twenty-five cents. Tomorrow it would be fifty cents, and you felt like it was your duty to save the doctor a quarter.

Pulling your coat closer, you started your trip. You were soaked to the bone in minutes, but there was a mission to be completed. The walk was excruciatingly long, but eventually you made it to the huge grey building just outside the city. Stitched patchwork patterns ran across the walls, ensuring that no mistake would be made as to who lives there.

You took a deep breath and knocked twice, two loud thumps that echoed in the night air. Your thin jacket was soaked through by then, thick raindrops catching on your eyelashes and wetting your skin. You stood for almost half a minute. Maybe he wasn't home. You prayed he wasn't home. This felt too intimate. Sure, you'd allow a few flirtatious comments that made your cheeks burn and your stomach flip but showing up at the doctor's house soaked through after dark was almost asking for trouble. At least without the excuse of being drunk. One more knock, and you'd go home, you told yourself. You reached up to pound on the double doors again, but one swung open just as you raised your fist. There was no one behind it, just a dark living room, only illuminated by the grinning moon spilling through the windows. You stepped inside warily, shutting the door behind you. "Doctor?"

No answer. It felt strange, to enter an empty house, but the door had opened for you. You turned a corner to see a door ajar, stark white light pouring from the gap between the door and the floor. You tried again. "Doctor? Are you in there?"

Your heart was racing, and not in the warm way it did in the library when the doctor would compliment your hair, or your new dress. No, this was a cold and unsettlingly familiar feeling. Fear.

"Come in."

You let out a breath at his voice. Deep, smooth, and safe. You weren't sure when 'safe' was added to the mix. Pushing open the door to his office, or rather lab, you looked around for him. Most of the lights were off, the illumination only from his computer and one bright desk lamp above him. He didn't speak, didn't move, only turning in his chair to face you. Under the scrutiny of his gaze, you suddenly felt very small. You had traveled, walked all the way here, because he owed you 25 cents for the encyclopedia he was a week late on returning. This was ridiculous. You looked at each other, your chest slightly heaving from the earlier nerves.

"I, um..." Your words were lost as he scooted his chair closer.

"Speak up." His voice was sharp, but not cold. It went straight to your core, and you fought every urge not to clench your thighs together.

"The encyclopedia you checked out. It's overdue." You said, a little louder, though your voice still wobbled. "And I need twenty-five cents with it."

The corner of his lips twitched, almost allowing a smirk, before he spun and wheeled back to his desk. The book was clearly untouched. He hadn't even bothered to read it but was still late returning it. He held it out to you to take, but when your hand closed around the spine, he tugged sharply, sending you stumbling into his lap. His empty hand landed just above your hip, pressing small dashes into your skin. You weren't sure he even knew he was doing it. "You know what I want." He murmured in your ear, not even having to lean up to reach. "Let me cut into that skin of yours, let me see you. All of you."

You couldn't bring yourself to look away, his eyes burning into yours. "Not tonight, Doctor." You were practically whispering, but he heard it.

"Ah. It was worth a try. Another night, then?"

You only smiled, standing to put a more appropriate distance between you. He let you take the book and you tucked it into your jacket, heading out the way you came.

"Will you allow me one experiment tonight? Not invasive, I promise." You stopped at his question, turning to face him again. He took your silence as a 'go ahead.'

Closing the gap between you before you could back away, he bent down and pressed his lips to yours. Gently, softly, barely there. He didn't give you the time to reciprocate, pulling away and returning to his desk as if nothing had happened. "Thank you. You're a perfect lab assistant."

You wandered out of the house, head clouded in confusion. You had many questions, many of which there was no answer to. When you finally reached your apartment downtown, you didn't even have the willpower to draw a bath. You stripped off your wet clothes and decided to deal with them in the morning. After tossing and turning for hours, you resigned. Sliding your hand under your panties, you teased your clit. You rolled the bud of your nipple between your fingers, pinching. Before long, you came into your hand, spilling over into your underwear. It wasn't the first time you had cum to the thought of the older professor, and it wouldn't be the last.

–

Doctor Stein’s long fingers tangled into the hair at the base of your neck, pulling just enough to tease as he bent you over your desk. You leaned on your elbows, barely able to support yourself as he slammed into you, over and over. Your eyes blurred, focusing in and out on the papers scattered across the desk. You’d shoved aside some inventory folders when he came in, pushing up your skirt and pulling your panties down your thighs. Each thrust was deeper than the last, hitting that spot perfectly. You had to bite down on the nearest thing – a book, how fitting – to muffle your moans. “How’s that?” He leaned forward. 

You lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. You were sitting in your desk chair. He was on the other side of your desk, a fully respectable distance away. Your hair was untouched, your clothes fully on. What the fuck? “Hm?” You cleared your throat, trying to rid the last of the daydream before engaging.

“How’s that inventory coming?”

You let out a shaky breath. “You know, as usual. Tedious. Long…” You swallowed, keeping your gaze at his face. If your eyes dipped anywhere else he’d notice and you’d never live it down.

“Hard?” The ghost of a smirk crossed his lips.

“No,” You said pointedly, looking away. “Not difficult at all. Just boring.”

“Boring? That can’t be right.”

You glared. “Not funny, Doctor.”

“I thought it was,” He shrugged. “You know, I was working on this experiment last night, but I’m not sure I have enough evidence. I figured you, as my lab assistant, could help me out. Maybe, in the research section?”

You nodded slowly, peeking around the library. No students were in earshot, the library was practically empty. No one ever went into the research section anyway, so you led him across the room to the dark aisles of research essays and books. As soon as you were out of sight of the other patrons, he pushed you against the shelf, one hand resting on your hip while the other held your head, maneuvering your face to a comfortable angle for his height. He kissed you hungrily, nothing like the night before. His hold tightened, as if you’d disappear in his arms if he didn’t make sure you were real. His hand moved from your face to your waist as the other dragged your skirt up your thigh, lifting it. It was thrilling, the hiding. It felt like back in your school days when you’d wait under the stairwell just to sneak a kiss without being seen by staff. Now, you were staff hiding not to be seen by students. A little twisted, but you didn’t care, not so long as Doctor Stein’s hands stayed under your skirt. Book spines were digging into your back as he pressed you hard against the shelf, but you didn’t notice.

His thumb brushed your clothed clit, sending a surprised spark through your body. You barely contained your moans as he kept working it, smug that you were soaking your underwear, all because of him. “Doctor,” you breathed out. “You shouldn’t, not here. Just kiss me.” He withdrew his hand, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. You barely got a taste of yourself as your tongue darted out to catch his finger. He leaned in again, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You’d never been kissed like this, not by anyone. You supposed he had almost two decades of practice on anyone else you’d been with.

As you ran your hands across his arms and shoulders, you felt the hard muscle hiding underneath that lab coat he always wore. You imagined the stitched scars everyone talked about, the ones that littered his body. You wished you could trace your fingers across them, admire his body without two layers and a public space in the way.

“Miss?” A voice called from the front desk. A student, looking for help.

“Damn it.” You muttered, and Doctor Stein let out a low chuckle. He waited a few moments to follow you back to the front. You hoped you didn’t look too messed up when you pointed the student in the right direction.

–

In the past week, you’d been going out of your way to wake up early and go to the lab to have breakfast with the doctor. You learned that he didn’t typically eat breakfast, or many meals at all, really, and took it upon yourself to supervise his mornings. Besides, it was as close as you’d be getting to domesticity. At least, for now.

You took a deep breath, pulling energy from deep within you, an energy you rarely called on these days, and your pointer finger sharpened. You cut the bagel in half with your tiny sword and spread cream cheese across it with ease. As if it was nothing, you licked the cream cheese from the sword and instantly replaced it with your finger. A trick you'd been using since your DWMA days, the most you'd transformed in years.

"You're a weapon." Stein said, looking into your eyes with a neutral expression. Not surprise, not judgement. Just a statement.

"Please. Like you didn't know." You scoffed, taking a bite of your breakfast as if nothing abnormal was afoot. "Not a very good one, it seems, which is why I haven't fully transformed since my school days."

He was still studying you and you wished he would stop. "I knew. I just wondered when you would share it with me." He reached across the coffee table to pick up a worn notebook. He clicked a pen and waited for you to speak.

"I'm not giving you an interview, Doctor. I'm just not good at the whole fighting thing, and resonance takes a lot of work. I only graduated because I was acing all my other courses and scraping by otherwise. D's get diplomas, or whatever they say." He was writing it all down anyway.

Doctor Stein went silent for a long time. You sat opposite him, waiting. You had nothing else you wanted to share. After too many minutes, he spoke.

"Let's try it, then."

You eyed him warily as he stood quickly, holding his hand out to help you up. "Try... what?"

"Soul Resonance. I can do it. You'll just have to keep your own soul stable and I'll do the rest. Come on."

You almost laughed. "No way. It's been years, I'll hurt myself."

"I won't let that happen." Something incredibly sincere crept into his words, and you found yourself trusting him more than you probably should. You let him lead you outside, behind his house and into a small courtyard. Before you did anything, you'd have to transform, which was going to be hard enough on its own. You pushed away the twinge of embarrassment. Doctor Stein was the strongest meister, like, ever, and you had to focus to turn into your weapon form. You felt pathetic. But disbelief in the self was not going to help.

The doctor appeared behind you, placing his hands on your waist. "Hey. Relax. Focus on me."

The contact sent shivers through your body, not helping your focus at all. You pictured your sword, squeezing your eyes shut. It took just a hair too long but you pushed the shame away. You felt a sharp pull in your gut followed the unsettling sensation of separating from your body. You had always hated that feeling, and it seemed like that hatred wouldn't ever fade. You half-expected to clatter to the ground, like you did every time you transformed in school, but Doctor Stein caught you — or rather the sword — with ease. You looked up at him with barely concealed awe, laced with hunger. Deep concentration overtook his sharp features. You watched as his shoulders relaxed in the focus he called upon. You suddenly remembered what you were supposed to be doing. You reached out to him with the familiar — now more present in your current form — hum of your soul, grasping around in the empty space for him. Everything clicked into place when his own soul collided with yours, engulfing it. They wrestled for a moment before settling into one. You let out a sigh, one that could be mistaken for a low moan, at the sensation. It had been so long since you'd succeeded at Soul Resonance, and the heavy warmth of Stein's calloused and scarred hands on the hilt of the sword grounded you in a way your previous meister never could.

You stayed in the bliss for a minute more before transforming back. You materialized back into your human form, just as close to Stein as you had been as a sword. More importantly, still in his hold. His hands rested against your hips and didn't seem to have any intention of leaving them.

"Your old meister ever make you feel like that?" His lips cracked into a smile.

"Careful, Doctor. You sound a little jealous. One might think you're flirting." You slid your hands onto his shoulders, pretending to smooth out his coat or brush dust away. You plucked his cigarette out of his mouth and took a drag, your lip gloss painting a mark on the thin paper.

"What would you do if I was?"

"This." You pulled him down by the back of his neck, connecting your lips harshly before you could stop yourself. You could still taste the smoke on his mouth as you darted your tongue against his. It was rough and messy and hot, nothing like the chaste barely-kiss all that time ago. You were glad. You didn't want a chaste kiss, you wanted him to feel what you'd been feeling for months.

Doctor Stein pulled you even closer, pressing your chest to his. You let him lift you and carry you inside. Your lips never left his, so you were surprised when your back hit cold metal rather than soft sheets. "Doctor?" You murmured when he pulled away. You sat up when he pulled restraints from under the table.

"Shh," He pushed you back down by your chest, firmly but soft enough for you to resist if you wanted to. "Do you trust me?"

You didn't speak for a while, and he didn't move until you gave an answer. "I'm not sure I should." But I do.

The unspoken words passed between your eyes and he gently took your wrist in his hand, took his cigarette back, and bound your wrist to the table. He did the same with the other, and each ankle and finally a strap across your collarbone. He slowly unbuttoned your shirt, kissing every inch of skin as it was revealed.

You didn't miss the way his fingers traced lines where he would cut into your skin in surgery, but the hot breath over your chest was enough to push that observation far, far away.

"Such a perfect body, all for me." He muttered, unbuttoning your skirt and tossing it to some dark corner of the room. You were laid almost bare on the cold operating table and he was still fully dressed.

"Stein," you forced out, voice weak. "Please let me see you."

You'd never called him by his name before, not to his face. He shuddered at the sound of it. It was perfect coming from your lips, and he intended to hear it again. He shook his head. "Another time." He reached over to his surgical tray for scissors.

Your eyes widened, and you squirmed in your restraints. "I thought—"

"Trust me, my dear." Stein whispered, cutting away your panties and through the front of your bra. He set the scissors down and sat back on his thighs, admiring his work. He let out a puff of smoke, blowing it down onto your body. The cold air hitting your skin hardened the bud of your nipples, and he gently traced a knuckle over one, sending a spark through your body. It was clear he was taking his time on purpose, teasing you. You wondered if he was going to touch you at all, or just sit there and observe. He finally reached out, brushing your hair off your shoulder. He leaned down and kissed you softly, as if memorizing the feel of your lips against his. You thought it was sweet, but you really wanted him to fuck you. Hard. Your hands pulled at the restraints on their own, aching to undo his pants and jerk him off. To hear him moan as you made him come with just your hand. But you couldn't. Not so restrained as this.

He traced down the side of your body, gently tapping pressure points that made your breath hitch. His hand stopped at your hip. He looked back up to you. "Open."

You did as he said without question, parting your lips, hoping for his fingers but getting only the cigarette. It was almost burnt out by then. He had disappeared back down to your legs, and the strap at your collarbone prevented you from watching as his face settled between your legs. He licked one long stripe from your entrance to your clit, and you moaned around the cigarette. He replaced his tongue with two fingers, calloused and thick. "Your anatomy... you're stellar."

Most girls don't want dirty talk to be about how anatomically pleasing their vagina is, but in his twisted way, Doctor Stein's words had your pussy clenching around his fingers. He slowed his pace and you tried to chase him with what little movement you were allowed. "You want a third?"

You were too out of breath to answer, whimpering nonsense.

"Speak up." He pulled his fingers out fully, licking your slick from them as he waited. "What do you want?"

"More, Doctor, please." You managed, breath hitching as he thrusted three fingers back into you, curling them and hitting that perfect spot with each movement. You pulled at your restraints, looking for anything to grab onto, but your hands were held fast against the table. "Doctor," You croaked out. "The cigarette." He looked up. He'd been watching your pussy take his fingers with academic delight. He reached up with his other hand and took the cigarette from your mouth. It was nearly burnt out. He took it and pressed it into your skin, putting it out on your neck, right next to your pulse. You cried out in pain and pleasure, the unexpected burning sensation just enough to send you over the edge. He fingered you through your orgasm, only stopping when he knew you were done. He pushed his fingers into your throat, and you sucked them clean, drooling around them. The fucked-out look in your eyes as you gazed up at him had him undoing your chest restraint with practiced ease and pulling you up against him, claiming your lips with his. He slowly got off the table and walked over to his desk, looking around in his cabinets.

You waited, unsure if he was going to come back for you. Your wrists and ankles were still bound to the table and without him above you, your nakedness was cold in the sterile air. He returned with a small paper towel and an ointment. Doctor Stein took your head in his hand and tilted it away, exposing the burn mark on your neck. You winced at the movement, and he frowned.

"I'm afraid I lost a bit of control. I'm sorry if I hurt you."

You bit your lip, almost pulling your knees to your chest, your ankle restraints tugging as you tried. "No, I, um. I liked it." You dared to meet his eyes at your last words to see a rare grin on his face as he cleaned the burn. It was a tad sinister and maybe even off-putting, but you were becoming more into his sadistic vibe by the minute so it only made your core ache with the memory of his fingers. "Can you undo these restraints? We have to get to school soon."

He glanced at the clock on the wall, then hummed in surprise. He unstrapped the bonds holding your hands and feet and retrieved your clothes. "I'm afraid you might have to forgo underwear today. I cut this pair in two." He held up two scraps of green lace. You snatched it from his hand, giving an admonishing look. "And the bra."

You buttoned your shirt back up and tugged your skirt on. "I'll meet you at school. Thanks to you, I have to go home and change."

Stein caught your hand and tugged you closer, kissing down your neck. "We could skip today. There's so many more experiments to be done. Like, what happens when I do this," He pulled your hair sharply and tongued your fresh burn. You couldn't hold back the moan it drew. "Or this," he started to suck a mark under your jaw, but you pulled away before he could do any damage.

"I'm serious!" You began gathering the rest of your things. "And this burn will be hard enough to hide, try not to mark me up any worse." He smirked. Your words held no bite, almost implying the opposite. He gave you one last kiss as a goodbye and stood frozen until you were out of sight.

Your short walk home was a treacherous one. Your mind was swimming with memories and confusion. His soul buzzing alongside your own, his hands on your hips. How had that led to you strapped to a table with his fingers down your throat? And now you had to go to work and pretend that nothing had happened. Yeah, right.

It was some hours later before you saw Stein again. He strolled into the library, stopping ahead of your desk. The air between you was thicker now with the memory of your morning. “I’m looking for a book.”

You thought he’d given up this little excuse weeks ago, so you furrowed your brow when he handed over a slip of paper with a title and author written on it. You stood, straightening your skirt and walking towards the nonfiction section. He remained silent, even as you climbed the ladder to retrieve the book. When you handed it to him, he took care not to let his hand brush yours as he took it. You wanted to frown, ask what changed in five hours, but you kept silent. He’d just finished class, maybe something had gone wrong with a student and he was just in a mood. He left the library after checking out without a goodbye. You tried not to take it personally, but it was difficult after the morning you’d had.

This behavior continued. He barely stopped by anymore, only when he actually needed a book, which wasn’t as often as he used to. His visits slowed and finally stopped. He started sending students to retrieve and return books he needed. It wasn’t long before you were friendless again. You still talked with Sid when you saw him, but you were disappointed to realize that Stein really was the only person you spent time with in Death City. The days passed by, each worse than the last. You woke up lonely and spent your mornings in self-pity. Afternoons passed full of anger. Your desk at the library was gathering a collection of dents from all the pencils you were stabbing into it as you thought of the meister. He’d kissed you, seen you naked, gotten you off, and that was all he wanted. Just a one-time fling with a younger woman. You should’ve seen it coming. Then came night, dark and cold and wet with tears. You fell asleep each night curled up, angry with yourself for being so upset. It had been weeks and at this point, you weren’t even sure what you were still mad about.

You didn’t make the mistake of going out to whatever dirty clubs Death City boasted again. The last had ended with that evil kiss atop your head, the weight of which you could still feel. That light press of his lips meant more than any sex he could offer, which is what made the rejection so hard. He’d kissed you like you mattered, like he cared. All to switch up and act like you were just some coworker.

You couldn’t stand another week of this. If he wouldn’t come to you, you’d have to take drastic measures. Tossing the sheets from your body, you threw a coat over your pajamas and headed out your front door. The taxi driver wouldn’t take you directly to the Patchwork Lab, so you stepped out of the car down the road and began your trek to the lab. If the drive didn’t bring you clarity, the walk definitely should have. Neither did, and you were already at the doors.

You slammed open the door to Stein's lab. He jumped in his chair, startled by the noise. He'd barely turned to face you by the time you were in front of him, hands on your hips. "I'm ready. I'll do it."

He raised an eyebrow, slowly standing from his chair. You didn't wait very long for him to catch up. "Dissect me, Doctor. I want you to."

Something dark flashed across his eyes, but he reined it back in. "I'm not sure I understand—"

"You've been asking. I'm here. I'm ready. Let's do it." You tugged him over to the operating table and climbed onto it. After pulling off your shirt, you fumbled with the clasp of your bra behind your back. He finally caught a look at you in the dim light. Your eyes, rimmed pink, lips trembling.

"You’ve been crying." He sighed, putting his hand over yours to still them. "Go home."

"Doctor, I want you to know every part of me. If you won't fuck me, then do your experiments."

He placed a hand on your knee, cupping your cheek with the other. "Is that what this is about?"

You looked away, cheeks burning and eyes fighting tears. You wouldn't cry again, not in front of him. Not over something like this. It was just rejection, you weren't unfamiliar with it, but it stung so much more with him. "It seemed like you wanted me. I thought you did, but now you'll barely look at me. And I know you're very much older than me and all, but I'm in love with you. And I trust you. Dissect me."

It wasn't easy to shock Doctor Stein. He was widely regarded as a mad scientist, if anything he was the one shocking others. But the words tumbling out of your mouth, wobbly but sure, had him near speechless. He brushed a thumb over your burn scar as he considered you, all blotchy cheeks and wet eyes. He dipped down wordlessly and picked you up. With one hand under your knees and the other around your ribs, he elbowed door after door open and laid you down in the guest room. "We'll talk in the morning, okay?"

You mumbled an answer, sleep taking you faster than you could fight. Stein pulled the covers over you and headed back to his lab, running a hand over his face.

I know you're very much older than me.

He didn't think he was very much older. Not quite twenty years older, he still had some youth in him. No naivety, though. He knew he was too old for you. Your little bondage escapade was pleasurable, a memory he had cum to multiple times, but it wasn't realistic. He couldn't justify doing it again. Especially not what you were asking for. He hadn't planned to get this involved. He hadn't planned to like you as much as he did, to fall in love with the young new librarian. And, God, if you had shown up asking to be dissected six months ago, he'd have been thrilled. He would strap you down and cut into you without hesitation. Now, the last thing he wanted to do was mark up that pretty skin of yours, to invade your body like that.

Waking again in Doctor Stein’s guest bed, there was no hangover to mask the dread, nothing to blur the memories of the night before. No alcohol to blame your words on. Maybe, you could stay in this bed forever, and he’d think you died and you wouldn’t ever have to face him again. You thought about it.

No, that wouldn’t work.

Climbing out of the bed, you walked slowly into the living room, hoping maybe you could sneak away. He was waiting on the couch ready to have a conversation you were so not excited to have. “Hey.” You offered, not sure where else to start. Oh, yeah, all that ‘I’m in love with you’ bullshit? I was lying, I feel totally normal about you and I haven’t been crying about it for weeks. Yeah, that wasn’t going to cut it.

“Good morning. You said some things last night that I want to address.”

God, was this a business meeting?

“Mhm.” You sat across from him, eyeing him carefully.

“So, you’re in love with me.”

“Well, you don’t have to say it like that. And, let me just say, you’re a confusing man. I want that on the record before we go on.”

His lips twitched at that, almost into a smile. He leaned back against the couch, examining your state. You hadn’t had the chance to look in the mirror before coming out to meet him. You could only guess what a mess you looked.

“I haven’t been doing very well these past few weeks. I haven’t been myself and I didn’t want to involve you in that part of my life. It’s the Madness. It’s more manageable lately, though. I would’ve told you, but you were so upset with me I figured I’d made a mistake that morning and thought best to distance myself for the time being.”

You scoffed, almost a laugh. Here he was, talking about how insecure he was due to the way you were treating him when you’d spent the past month in a haze of tears and fury.

“I hope you don’t want me to dissect you anymore,” He raised an eyebrow, searching your face for confirmation. “I couldn’t do that to you, not anymore.”

“Why ‘not anymore?’”

“I try to avoid crossover between my research and those I care about.”

“And, just to be clear, when you say ‘care about’...”

“I love you. I know I haven’t shown it very well.”

“How about you show me now?”

Doctor Stein didn’t wait for another word before tossing you over his shoulder and heading to his room. You hadn’t seen it yet, only having spent time in the guest room. It wasn’t anything too special. It was clear he rarely used it. You knew he didn’t sleep through the night, almost always at his desk in his lab. He dropped you down onto the bed, pulling your clothes off in a hurry. You were a bit self-conscious, considering you were wearing normal pajamas, nothing that sexy, but you weren’t clothed for long. He’d lost his lab coat somewhere between the couch and the bed, so it was only his t-shirt between you. Tugging it off over his head, you pulled away from the kiss. “Holy shit.” The words left you before you could stop them. You ran your hands across his chest, taking in every detail, every curve of muscle. You suddenly had a fear he’d take your words in the wrong way, but the hunger laced in your tone made clear your intentions. He didn’t let you admire him for long, leaning down to kiss you. His lips were warm and surprisingly soft for a man you’d never seen drink water. You moaned into his mouth as he dipped his hand past the waistband of your panties. You stopped his hand.

“You’ve done enough of that. Fuck me, Doctor.”

He grinned, amused by your admonishment. He tugged off your underwear, kicking off his boxers. You barely got a chance to get a look before he was easing his cock into your entrance. He paused as you squeezed your eyes shut, tears pricking at the corners. “Too much?”

You shook your head. “Just go slower. I can take it.”

He followed suit, easing slowly, watching you for any signs of discomfort. Once he was fully sheathed inside you, he pulled out and slammed back in. The first thrust changed everything. He went faster, hitting places deep into your pussy. Each movement drew a deep moan.

“Louder, baby, my neighbors have long since learned to ignore what goes on in here. Let me hear you.”

You were in ecstasy, too far gone to be embarrassed of the pornographic moans he was pulling from you. Every fantasy, every time you’d gotten off to thought of him; none of it even scratched the surface of the real thing. He lifted your hips, pushing one of your legs up for a better angle. The stretch was too much, yet so perfect. You didn’t have time to warn him before you were coming all over his cock, pussy clenching as he fucked you through it. He moved to pull out, but you grabbed his shoulders and pulled him closer. “Come inside me, Doctor.”

He always loved the way you called him doctor, but everything laced into your tone in that moment was his undoing. Releasing inside you, he slumped over onto your chest. You rubbed circles on his back as his cock softened inside you.

“Still with me, old man?”

He scoffed, rolling off you. “Careful saying things like that. I wasn’t done.”

Doctor Stein lifted your legs again, tossing your legs over his shoulders. He slowly kissed up your thighs, cleaning up your mixed release with his tongue. He planted one kiss on your lips, giving you just a taste, before lowering himself to your cunt. He was right. He wasn’t done. Just when you thought he might have tired himself out, he dove back in. His fingers, his tongue, his cock. It didn’t matter, so long as he made you cum.

–

Doctor Stein reached over to his bedside table, fishing around for something in the dark. His hand closed around a pack of cigarettes and a matchbox. He lit it without looking, not breaking your eye contact. He had a thing about that, keeping your gaze. As if you'd disappear if he looked away. As if you were a vision that would be gone in a blink. He took a long drag, never letting his focus leave your face. There wasn't anything to be said, not really. You let him tighten his arm around your waist and tucked yourself into his side, as if you could get any closer. You traced a finger down one of the jagged scars on his chest and he tensed. Just for a second, but long enough to notice. You pulled your hand back quickly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have."

He caught your wrist, pulling it back to his chest. "Don't be. It's habit. You can do it again."

This time, you rolled on top of him, laying kisses along each scar, your tongue darting out every now and then. You could feel his steady breathing, the smell of smoke and sex and sweat surrounding the bed. You leaned back on your thighs, straddling his lap. Doctor Stein held the cigarette out to you, a simple and mindless offering. The way your lips curled around the cigarette had his cock twitching against his will. You took the cigarette from his fingers, blowing the smoke off to the side as you admired the man below you. You reached between you and stroked his cock. Once, twice. His eyes snapped to yours. You braced your hand against his toned stomach as you pumped his cock with the other. When you had him hard and leaking with pre-cum, you lined him up and sank down on his cock. A low moan escaped you, the movement of your lips dropping cigarette ash onto his chest. You started with a cautious rolling of your hips against his before you lifted onto your knees and dropped back onto him, dragging him in and out of your cunt until you were gripping his arms for support. He held your hips the whole time to keep you steady. Your legs shook with each slam of his cock against your clit. He wished he could say he tried his best to pull out, but he couldn't pretend as he pulled your hips against him. He came, hard, shooting hot ropes of cum straight into your pussy. Your orgasm wasn't far behind.

Pulling out of you for the second time that night, he plucked the cigarette from your lips and finished it. When he put it out against the bedframe, you almost whined at the memory of the pain he'd inflicted that first time. He rolled over, pressing a deep and sure kiss against your lips. “I’m sorry for putting you through so much confusion. I don’t intend to do that ever again. I want you to wake up in my bed every morning, for us to share coffee, to walk to work together. I want to pretend to have a reason to be in the library other than to look at you and hear about your day.”