Remembering Oracle
A few weeks went by and Bruce found himself adjusting to his now normal. From waking up to making his own breakfast, running behind the bus, a few lateness here and there and the massacre of student crowds on the way home, he managed to breathe. While it was not entirely different from his usual home, the air was refreshing; simply because he was there, among his peers, people so normal and boring he almost forgot his last name. Although, he knew deep within, to say that people were boring would be a foolish lie for even he knew that there was nothing monotonous about her.
Her name, which he found out in their first class together, was Amarra. She came earlier to school than everybody else and always seemed to dwindle in between the bookshelves of the library. Bruce could not deny his obsession. Something about this girl was odd, odd enough to have his senses peaked whenever she would be around.
Bruce had an unfathomable love for literature. Art expressed in forms of syntax, rhymes and dubious literate arrogance called to him. Not to forget the lovely Miss Penny; a beautiful women touching her early thirties and her teaching had a way of making even Jane Austen feel like a woman warrior of her time. Bruce usually found Jane quite ridiculously pretentious. With literature class ongoing, Bruce excused himself to the loo. As he descended the stairs, he halted midway as he bumped with the girl of his affiliation.
"You're late."
She looked perplexed for about two seconds before the glaze in her eyes turned mellow.
"Did Miss Penny ask about me?
"She did ask if you would be coming but since you are never late, we thought you wouldn't."
"I better get going then."
"Alright."
He had only took a few steps before he heard her calling.
"Where are you off to? Class is this way."
He stared into her eyes for a few seconds before deciding that today might be the day he touches her in the way he had been craving since he first laid his eyes on her.
"To the loo, ma'am."
She blushed.
Back in class, she had taken a seat next to his.
"Of all the empty seats, you sat next to me. I feel honored."
She rolled her eyes discretely but Bruce caught it still.
"What is that scent?"
She squinted her eyes slightly with her nose scrunched. Bruce found it adorable how she had different facial expressions distinctive to the messages she was conveying.
"It's my cologne."
"Of course, it is. Which one?"
She looked irritated.
"The Black Dahlia."
Bruce saw the stunned expression melt quickly into neutrality on her face and could not control his curiosity then.
"What is it?"
She hesitated before answering. This felt delicious to Bruce.
"My dad used to wear it."
She looked forward, listening to Miss Penny's babbles about the Shakespearean art of disguise and Bruce knew there would be no further explanation. Yet, those two words rang in his ears.
Used to.
With Miss Penny's class being over, Bruce had a free period after. He had planned to lounge around but Amarra had other plans. She had asked him if he would like to accompany her to the library and he had readily said that he needed to find a quiet place to make notes.
As soon as they got to the Library, Bruce found a seat in the midst of the bookshelves; it was cozy and he disappeared from peering eyes. He heard his name being softly called and remembered that Amarra had disappeared in the bookshelves in her own hunt.
"I'm here."
She came through and smiled slightly. Sitting across him, Bruce noticed she had a book grasped tightly in her own.
"Quite a book you have there. What's it about?"
"Ancient Rome."
"Tragic."
Her eyes snapped to his, holding it, refusing to look away.
"What is?"
"Rome. The men that ruled or rather, sought to rule it. The people, the vanity they possess. Having no regards for the empire's history being forged from corruption and destruction and bloody massacres."
"Men have a way of destroying everything they touch. It comes as no surprise."
She went back to reading a passage in the book in spite of Bruce's lingering gaze. She seemed unbothered and Bruce felt this nagging to have her unsettled. As if hearing his darkness, Amarra stood stubborn showcasing her resilience. Men do not scare her but Bruce knew he was more than that.
Hours passed in the Library and Amarra had once again disappeared in between the shelves. Bruce kept working through the daunting lines of Othello's delirious madness and Iago's eloquence. Yet, his concentration tipped; two black eyes stared a hole in his head. Without looking up, he said,
"I see you staring. I wonder. Do you like the view?"
"Royal coming from you."
That caught Bruce's attention. She was haughtily leaning on the bookshelves. Fully attentive to him. Delicious warmth flooded his brain as he stood up, gradually approaching her.
"You enjoy it."
"What makes you say that?" A challenge.
"You could have stopped me anytime."
"Would that have stopped you?"
"Doubtful." She smiled. She was up to something.
"I've always wanted to do insidious things in the library."
Bruce had red lights flashing in his mind but he paid no heed.
"Can I help?"
At this point, Amarra was pressed to the shelf by Bruce as both of them refused to back off from the challenge. For weeks on end, they had entertained at arm's length the tension between them. Suddenly, it all came rushing and the idea of stopping vanished.
Her name, which he found out in their first class together, was Amarra. She came earlier to school than everybody else and always seemed to dwindle in between the bookshelves of the library. Bruce could not deny his obsession. Something about this girl was odd, odd enough to have his senses peaked whenever she would be around.
Bruce had an unfathomable love for literature. Art expressed in forms of syntax, rhymes and dubious literate arrogance called to him. Not to forget the lovely Miss Penny; a beautiful women touching her early thirties and her teaching had a way of making even Jane Austen feel like a woman warrior of her time. Bruce usually found Jane quite ridiculously pretentious. With literature class ongoing, Bruce excused himself to the loo. As he descended the stairs, he halted midway as he bumped with the girl of his affiliation.
"You're late."
She looked perplexed for about two seconds before the glaze in her eyes turned mellow.
"Did Miss Penny ask about me?
"She did ask if you would be coming but since you are never late, we thought you wouldn't."
"I better get going then."
"Alright."
He had only took a few steps before he heard her calling.
"Where are you off to? Class is this way."
He stared into her eyes for a few seconds before deciding that today might be the day he touches her in the way he had been craving since he first laid his eyes on her.
"To the loo, ma'am."
She blushed.
Back in class, she had taken a seat next to his.
"Of all the empty seats, you sat next to me. I feel honored."
She rolled her eyes discretely but Bruce caught it still.
"What is that scent?"
She squinted her eyes slightly with her nose scrunched. Bruce found it adorable how she had different facial expressions distinctive to the messages she was conveying.
"It's my cologne."
"Of course, it is. Which one?"
She looked irritated.
"The Black Dahlia."
Bruce saw the stunned expression melt quickly into neutrality on her face and could not control his curiosity then.
"What is it?"
She hesitated before answering. This felt delicious to Bruce.
"My dad used to wear it."
She looked forward, listening to Miss Penny's babbles about the Shakespearean art of disguise and Bruce knew there would be no further explanation. Yet, those two words rang in his ears.
Used to.
With Miss Penny's class being over, Bruce had a free period after. He had planned to lounge around but Amarra had other plans. She had asked him if he would like to accompany her to the library and he had readily said that he needed to find a quiet place to make notes.
As soon as they got to the Library, Bruce found a seat in the midst of the bookshelves; it was cozy and he disappeared from peering eyes. He heard his name being softly called and remembered that Amarra had disappeared in the bookshelves in her own hunt.
"I'm here."
She came through and smiled slightly. Sitting across him, Bruce noticed she had a book grasped tightly in her own.
"Quite a book you have there. What's it about?"
"Ancient Rome."
"Tragic."
Her eyes snapped to his, holding it, refusing to look away.
"What is?"
"Rome. The men that ruled or rather, sought to rule it. The people, the vanity they possess. Having no regards for the empire's history being forged from corruption and destruction and bloody massacres."
"Men have a way of destroying everything they touch. It comes as no surprise."
She went back to reading a passage in the book in spite of Bruce's lingering gaze. She seemed unbothered and Bruce felt this nagging to have her unsettled. As if hearing his darkness, Amarra stood stubborn showcasing her resilience. Men do not scare her but Bruce knew he was more than that.
Hours passed in the Library and Amarra had once again disappeared in between the shelves. Bruce kept working through the daunting lines of Othello's delirious madness and Iago's eloquence. Yet, his concentration tipped; two black eyes stared a hole in his head. Without looking up, he said,
"I see you staring. I wonder. Do you like the view?"
"Royal coming from you."
That caught Bruce's attention. She was haughtily leaning on the bookshelves. Fully attentive to him. Delicious warmth flooded his brain as he stood up, gradually approaching her.
"You enjoy it."
"What makes you say that?" A challenge.
"You could have stopped me anytime."
"Would that have stopped you?"
"Doubtful." She smiled. She was up to something.
"I've always wanted to do insidious things in the library."
Bruce had red lights flashing in his mind but he paid no heed.
"Can I help?"
At this point, Amarra was pressed to the shelf by Bruce as both of them refused to back off from the challenge. For weeks on end, they had entertained at arm's length the tension between them. Suddenly, it all came rushing and the idea of stopping vanished.
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