Chapter Twenty-Four

 

Sweet Emotions

 

Saturday, August 13th

 

Annaleah has been in the hospital for several days now. My mind wonders to her constantly, though I try to maintain my routine in class. My students can tell I am distracted, and though most of them are mature enough to understand and act with empathy, there are a few who have taken to making this time even more of a Hell for me. If I had the strength they are used to and have come to respect, these creatures would recoil from me in fear instead of causing me even greater torment. It seems that the moment I’ve come to feel deep empathy, there must be a wretched few among them to tease it out of my grasp.

I am experiencing many new emotions since my visitation with Gabriel. Knowing that he has been with Annaleah for so long as her protector and that he sent me such an intense dream has had me doing a lot of thinking. I’ve known since I first saw her that she was different, but for an arch angel to get so closely involved is something I have not seen before. Who is this beautiful woman child? Why can I not stop thinking of her? Yes, she is different. I admit she is interesting to me, but this is the beginning of a new school year and I have many other things to occupy my thoughts and time. Yet, I return to her in my mind and even to her room as she rests. She has yet to awaken when I have visited her. Maybe it is a good thing.

I have held her hand as she slept, fascinated with the warmth of her flesh against mine. Her hand was so soft and small in my own. As I gazed upon our hands entwined, I felt a strange sensation over take me. The longer I looked at them, the more I became aware that just by holding her hand, my own hand became more beautiful. I am not sure if it was my eyes playing tricks on me, from stress and lack of sleep, or, if what I saw was real. In her skin, and in my own, I saw the familiar arcs and flashes of luminosity, the telltale sign of angelic blood. Is she one of my kindred then? If so, why hadn’t I ever seen her in the days I was still....

But I will not revisit there. Suffice to say, I have seen and felt things with Annaleah that seem to change who I am.

Who and what are you, Annaleah? Why does my heart beat like it shall escape my chest when I look at your face? Why do I long to taste your lips, to press my mouth over your cupid's bow and draw your very breath into my lungs? I ache to give you my heat, to see it blossom in your heart and spread its fire in your soul. Never have I felt like this for a human before. It is dangerous. Not only for fear of being betrayed again by someone who has the power to wound me, but because the love of humans has caused many wars. It is forbidden for my kind to love a human. Or so it has been said. Oh, if I could ask the Creator Herself, but no, it is not possible now….

This is another thought that has come to me as of late as well. Through many years of meditation and purposeful hardening of my spirit, I have moved past the betrayal I suffered so long ago. However, for some reason I’m unaware of, this very issue has been resurfacing in my mind. The pain has returned, but with it, as though to take the sharpest edge off of it, have come these new and intoxicating feelings for Annaleah.

Sometimes, when I visit her, I feel that I can feel her heart beating in my chest. As though each pulse is laced with something so profound and intimate it is beyond my ability to describe in words. Her youth, her supreme innocence, as well as the enigma of who she is, combines in her to produce one of the most extraordinary creatures I have ever seen.

Perhaps too, it what happened last night that has me in such a state of affairs. I was beside her bed, looking at her beautiful mouth, when her lips parted slightly and she exhaled a deep breath. I had been thinking about how poorly I had treated her, and of what I would say should she awaken to find me beside her. Her sharp exhalation brought me back to the present. The way her mouth opened ever so slightly reminded me of a woman who was expecting a kiss, and I wished then for her to awaken so that I might have the slightest chance of kissing her. Her sudden clasp on my hand in hers surprised me, but pleasantly so. It was no more than a quick squeeze, and then she let my hand go.

And then she said my name. She did not call me Professor, or Sir. In a loud whisper, as she let my hand go limp in her own, she said, "Sebastian." I think my heart, as well as my lungs, ceased working for a moment. I thought she knew I was with her, but I dismissed that thought as she went still again and fell back to her deepened dream state. I held her hand tightly, willing her to awaken, to say my name again.

It is rare for anyone to call me by anything but Professor in some form. Though the Chancellor does, on some occasions, call me Sebastian, it is never with any form of intimacy or deep affection. When Annaleah said my name, the emotion it carried was unmistakable. I wished so deeply then to know what she was dreaming, but just to know she dreamt of me…. Oh what that did to me!

I want to hear her say my name again, to see her lips part and feel her breath hot against me as my name forms on her lips. It is such a small thing, and yet so deeply personal. Why is it so intoxicating to me, I wonder, to be called by my first name? Perhaps it is partially because it happens so rarely. That she used this form instead of professor makes it much more cherished. She was calling to me as an equal, not as a teacher or a superior.

I leaned closer to her, hoping she would speak again in her sleep. Though I could have peered inside her dreams had I wished to do so strongly enough, I did not want to invade her privacy in any way. To mar her innocence in any manner would be unforgivable. I watched her eyes dart beneath her lids, a sure sign of dreaming. The closer I came to her, the more I smelled her scent. Honeysuckle.

There were too many emotions at once. From her scent, to her speaking my name. Suddenly, I had to get out of there, before I become overwhelmed.

As I turned to leave, one of our students walked into the room. I believe her name is Rachael. She looked a bit startled at seeing me in the room with Annaleah, but recovered quickly.

I hope she is not one for gossip; all I need is to have the ones who have been making the past few days a torment to know I have visited her again. Though I am sure a few teachers would love this little tidbit as well.

I will sign off for now. I am growing tired and need to retire for the night. Perhaps I shall see Annaleah in Dream Time, and maybe, just maybe, I can hear her say my name once more...

~SB~