The Hondje of the Baskervilles

Part I

I had been waiting for Arthur for what seemed like centuries.

"Oh Theo, why must Arthur take so long on his writing sprees?" I asked in agony. I had been delighted to bring him his daily coffee and eclair, but to my disappointment, his room was locked and he refused to respond to my knocks.
"I don't know, knabbeltje. Would you just leave me to my book?" he replied angrily.

Theo's hair was flawlessly tousled, shining in the moonlight, and for once I wasn't seeing his bluntness or his constant cynicism, but for what he truly was. He was actually a handsome man. I couldn't help but let my mind drift to the way his eyes flickered across the pages of his novel. His eyes were captivating, the yellow speckles swimming gracefully in an azure sea made them impossible to ignore.

"You don't do yourself much justice acting the way you do. You know that?" I said in spite. I had made a mistake saying anything at all.

"What ever do you mean?" he said sarcastically, daring me to continue.

I wasn't going to let him discourage me from continuing, so I contemplated how best to convey my feelings.

"You know, you are quite a handsome man without that defeatist look on your face," I babbled, knowing that I had wedged myself somewhere I most certainly didn't belong.

"Are you saying something that might get you in trouble with old Art?" Theodorous hinted with a smirk on his face. He still was daring me to continue, but this time he actually wanted to know what I had to say.

"Now, you know I didn't mean it like that," I was blushing profusely. I wasn't quite sure how I meant it. "I guess I just don't know why you are the way you are when you have potential to be such a dashing man. I know that must sound silly, but I just can't wrap my head around it."

"Well, my dear knabbeltje, there are men like me who choose to be sensible about their lives, and there are men that choose to suck up to your good looks like my old buddy Art," he said this with a curious look on his face. He looked angry from the first perspective, but I thought I saw a softness in his eyes that longed to settle down like Arthur and I had.

"Doesn't part of you wish you would have won me?" I was trying to be intimidating, but I had truly asked this only to find if he felt the same about me. I was terrified for his answer.

He looked at me curiously, with a hint of fire in his eyes, and his desire shone through brighter than the sun would ever shine. I knew he was about to do something he would most certainly regret.

"Theo. . ." I started as he drew closer.

"You look incredibly stupid trying to intimidate me like that." He drew achingly closer. How could he be doing this on the bench outside of Arthur's room?

Suddenly he stopped with a choked breath and placed his hand on my heart "Do you feel it too?"

I didn't have to know what he was talking about. . . of course I felt it. His face was inches away from mine and all I could think about was him. I needed to be thinking about Arthur, he was practically my boyfriend for god's sake. But I wasn't thinking about him at all.

Why might Theo have this affect on me after weeks of our acquaintance? I always hated him for the way he treated me, as a prize to be won rather than who and what I truly stood for. But now, I felt like a claw machine toy from back home, desperate to be won, and it was sickening.

"Theo. . ." I tried to compose myself, but I could only think about the distance between us.

    He unapologetically interrupted me, leaning closer and whispering in my ear "It looks like I've already won you," he breathed. Then, he planted a gentle kiss on my forehead and got up hastily, leaving his book behind.