My Dear, He is Dangerous and Charming

The tall, handsome college guy stood before me, freshly showered and brimming with youthful energy.

I, exhausted and worn out, looked at him and said, “You’re in college now, and your sister still expects me to look after you?”

I didn’t even get that kind of care when I went through a breakup.

As I scrutinized him, Eason Morris’s handsome face showed a flicker of discomfort.

"I twisted my ankle these past few days, so it’s been a bit of a hassle. My sister said… since you’re close to campus, if it’s too much trouble, I can find somewhere else..."

He tried to limp towards the door, stumbling slightly.

Seeing him like this, I felt I couldn’t just turn him away, especially with a guy like him around.

"Forget it, just stay here. But as you can see, it’s a studio apartment, so you’ll have to sleep on the couch. How tall are you?"

From my observation, he was easily a head taller than me.

Eason replied, "Six foot two inches."

Tall and well-built, that was my first impression of him.

"Viola."

"Hmm?"

Eason looked awkwardly at my hand still resting on his arm.

When I pulled my hand away, it felt a bit warm. I tried to stay composed and said, "Don’t be so formal. Since I’m friends with your sister, you should call me 'sister.' Anyway, the couch is about six foot three inches long, so it should fit you just fine. I’m tired, so I’m going to..."

"I brought some drinks. I heard you’re going through a breakup. How about we have a drink together?" Eason seemed to brush off my attempt at formality.

I thought to myself.

If it weren’t for Demi Allen asking me to look after her brother, I would have been heading out for drinks anyway. His offer was perfect timing.

After drinking too much, I found myself sitting on the carpet, ranting about my ex for being a closeted gay who had deceived me.

"He acted so perfectly when he was chasing me, good morning, good night, bringing me food every day. And now he’s with his roommate. Am I just that blind? How did I not realize he was gay?"

I wasn’t done venting by myself. I dragged him into it too.

"Why aren’t you saying anything? You should be cursing him with me!"

"You’re drunk."

In my hazy state, I heard someone speaking in my ear, making it itch.

Maybe I really was too drunk. When I tried to get up, my head felt heavy and light at the same time, and I ended up collapsing against him.

He smelled like my shower gel, which I liked.

Somehow, in my foggy state, I ended up underneath him.

He called my name, "Viola," in that low, raspy voice.

As the pain started to hit, I thought I heard someone whisper in my ear, "He betrayed you. Let me help you get back at him… sister."

It was an absurd thing to say, with no real basis, but at that moment, I was lost in the sound of him calling me "sister."

He was young, rough, and unrefined, with no real technique.

The next morning, I woke up with a pounding headache, and as the memories of the previous night came rushing back, I was paralyzed with shock.

Did I really… sleep with my best friend’s brother?

He’s in college, so he must be… an adult now, right?

I grabbed my hair in frustration, overwhelmed with self-recrimination.

I couldn’t face my best friend, and I definitely didn’t dare to face Eason.

I strained to listen for any sign of Eason, and once I was sure he wasn’t in the room, I cautiously peeked through the door crack.

After quickly gathering my things, I made a hasty exit to work.

“Sister.”

As I walked onto campus, the sudden call made my skin crawl.

In the next moment, I saw the brother and sister walking to school, and the younger brother greeted me politely, “Good morning, Miss Green.”

It wasn’t Eason.

I took a deep breath. “You, you guys, good morning.”

The whole day, except for teaching my classes, I was distracted.

While serving coffee to the Dean, I even accidentally burned her hand.

The usually stern Dean, who had somehow heard about my troubles, surprised me by not expressing any displeasure. Instead, she comforted me, saying, “Young girl, there’s nothing you can’t overcome. If you’re not feeling well, take a couple of days off to rest and adjust your emotions.”

Take a couple of days off?

My eyelid twitched. “No, no, Principal, I’m fine. I don’t want personal issues to affect my work. I’m okay.”

After two years on the job, it was the first time I saw genuine approval in the principal’s eyes.

As school let out, I was at the door, organizing students to line up and leave.

Just as most had gone, I looked up and saw Eason among the parents picking up their kids.

My heart skipped a beat. The moment I’d dreaded had finally come.