We walked for a long time. His backyard was indeed big, bigger than I originally thought, because at one point we made it towards a pavilion I hadn't seen before. It was tucked neatly away behind a few trees and right near a lake I also hadn't noticed before now. Then again, I had mostly turned my attention towards his swimming pool.
The pavilion offered a seating option, and so taking a seat, we both sat down and enjoyed the bottle of red wine he had procured from his basement. The thick blanket turned out to be for me as nighttime slowly settled over us and chilled the air to a degree that was less warm than my clothing. It was a warm evening, but not that warm.
Having uncorked the bottle from home, Harry poured me a glass of red and then one for himself as well before leaning back and watching the slowly darkening night sky with me. Summer meant later nights with more sun, but the sunset was beautiful nonetheless as we watched it set through the trees around the pavilion.
Keeping the warm blanket wrapped around me, I sipped my glass slowly and let the heady wine tickle my tastebuds before swallowing it. I had no clue about years and good grapes, but something told me this was a good and expensive wine. Hopefully with a nice alcohol percentage, too.
"Tell me why you decided to study medicine," Harry then voiced. I blew out a breath, because I knew from the start that some subjects would be unavoidable tonight, after earlier today.
"I guess... because of my mom," I replied, sipping my wine again. "I grew up with one parent who wasn't always quite there, mentally, and it just... I guess I just wanted to make it easier on the next kid who got a mom like that."
"And your father?"
"If you have his number, I'd love to see where my intelligence came from," I chuckled weakly at my own lame joke. Truth was, it was still a sensitive topic.
Harry didn't smile at my joke, understandably, but merely sipped his own wine instead. "So you decided to study medicine because you want to help others not go through what you did."
"It's a bit cliché, I know."
"It's very admirable, but I question if that's what you truly want."
"What do you mean?"
Harry watched his wine for a moment before speaking. "Your mother spoke something about not wanting you to forget who you are. I want to know who you think you are, Cassandra."
His words astounded me for a moment. Then, taking a big gulp of my wine, I let out a long breath. Complicated questions. "I... I mean... does anyone know who they really are? I'm just... you know..." What was I? Parental problems aside, what was I? Struggling? A bitch? Lost?
"I think you're still trying to figure out who you are," Harry volunteered for me. I silently looked over at him. He was still watching his wine, swirling it around in his glass. "You're a young woman, Cassandra. Nobody should have their life together at your age, but I see how you carry yourself in this world. You're brave, but you're also afraid," He turned his eyes towards mine, and it was then I realized I had forgotten to breathe. "Tell me if I'm wrong."
I exhaled when I had been holding my breath. Then, lowering my gaze, I licked my lips.
"You're not wrong," I whispered, silently.
Harry nodded slowly. I was afraid. Not of life, but of the people I let into it. Perhaps of the people who were already in it... or the people missing in it. It all felt so wrong.
Every person I knew felt like they had been given the wrong title in my life. My mother was more of friend to me than a parent... my dad was more of a donor or a ghost than a father... and my friends were as non-existent as the relationships I had with boys. And Harry... well. I wasn't even going to start that one.
"Do you remember what I told you?" Harry broke the silence. I lifted my eyes and cocked a questioning brow. He told me so much, it was hard to keep track of it all. "If words can control you, you let other people control you." Ah, yes. That one. "No matter the situation, never let your emotions overpower your intelligence," He reminded me. "You are brighter than your mother, and you are not a product of her influence in your life. You get to choose what happens to you and therefore what you want to become. Not her."
Try telling her that one, I wanted to say, but I knew he was right. I knew what he was really saying.
If I was allowing my mom to control my emotions, what else was I allowing her to control?
"I've only ever had my mom," I whispered. It felt like confession night, and I was afraid one bottle of wine wasn't going to be enough to get through it. "If I lose her, who else do I have?"
"Who said you need anyone else?"
So now he wanted me to become a loner like him? Hiding away from the world, because the world only wanted to use me? "I want people in my life, Harry. I'm sorry, but I'm not like you. I can't survive on misanthropy."
"You have roughly 7 billion to choose from," He voiced. "Many of whom will be a lot less toxic than your mom." Damn it, if he was trying to make me break down and cry, he should've brought tissues instead of a blanket. "You make it appear as if you go against her, you'll have nobody left on the planet to turn to. That's not true."
"Turning to people takes trust," I said, turning my eyes towards him. "You of all people should know how hard that is to come by."
I saw a muscle in his jaw work before he turned his eyes towards the fading horizon. I hit a nerve, I could tell, but he had hit one of mine as well.
The one thing about Harry, was that he was always brutally honest – brutal being the operative word. He always gave you the truth, whether you needed it or not, he gave it to you anyway. And strangely, I liked that.
Maybe because I was so busy trying to suppress it.
"Can I ask you something?" I finally voiced, after a moment of silence. I tilted my head to the side when he hummed and sipped his wine. "Does my age bother you?"
Swallowing, he lowered his glass. "No."
"So the age difference doesn't bother you either?" I provoked, sitting up a little straighter when he set his wine glass down on the edge of the pavilion railing. "I mean, you were the one who said you hated the youth. I'm technically part of it, whether or not you want to admit it, so shouldn't you hate me, too?"
"You're far beyond your age, Cassandra," He smiled, quietly. "Most days, anyway."
Most days? "You mean the days when I take off my clothes in your study and fuck you in your pool?" I whispered, seeing his jaw twitch.
He turned his eyes towards me and looked at me in the fading darkness. I stared back, but was confused by the strangely... enthralled look in his eyes?
"You have such a crass mouth," He finally replied, lifting one hand to brush his thumb against my lips. His eyes slowly centered on them.
I swiftly caught his thumb between my teeth with a quick move. His eyes flickered up to mine, and I carefully brought my own hand around his and watched him as I slowly sucked his thumb into my mouth. If he wanted crass, I could give him crass.
He pursed his lips a little when I tauntingly bit into his thumb, curling my lip up a little when I saw his jaw clench again. I didn't bite too hard... just enough to leave a mark.
Finally pulling his thumb from my mouth, I then kissed his palm and gazed over at him as he calmly watched me. "You mean like that?"
He was quiet a moment. Then... "You are by far the most complex woman I've ever met," He spoke, watching me closely.
I was going to take that as a compliment.
Crawling closer, I kept my blanket around my shoulders as I climbed up on his lap and straddled him, bringing the blanket around the both of us. He merely pursed his lips again when I leaned down to his mouth and exhaled slowly against it. "And you're by far the most arrogant asshole I've ever met. Short of your brother."
His lips twitched, and I think he took that as a compliment as well. Especially when his hand came to my cheekbone and softly caressed it. He understood what I was trying to say.
Leaning down closer, I paused a few inches from his lips and saw how his eyes shadowed over. How his pupils expanded.
It was the tiniest things. The tiniest things that made my heart race and my stomach clench when I was with him. He wasn't expressive, but his touch... the way the look in his eyes changed and made me feel what he was feeling... it was enough to set me aflame inside.
"Kiss me," I whispered.
Cupping my cheek, Harry slowly sat up. He looked at my eyes as I pulled closer, combing my fingers through his hair, dragging him closer—needing him closer. Why did I need him so close? Why was I going crazy, waiting for him to move?
– Moving in, Harry softly pressed his lips over mine. He kissed me slowly but surely, and made me tremble as he parted my lips with a simple brush of his thumb. He looked up into my eyes again, pinning me with his irises, before moving in once again and claiming my lips.
The air was knocked from my lungs with an invisible force as his tongue swept against mine, tasting me, exploring me gently, like a gentleman asking for entrance. His hands that held me perfectly in his embrace pulled me closer and made me cling to his shoulders as our lips intertwined passionately.
I arched my back submissively when his hand then traveled up my space, resting between my shoulder blades as I grew more desperate against his lips. I whimpered softly when he as usual took his time appreciating every inch of me. I realized then I was only impatient for him to explore more.
Taking his hand, I brought it down to my ass and felt as he delicately clenched me, pulling me closer. It was then my own hands moved to the hem of my top, letting the blanket around my shoulders slide down around my hips as I pulled my top and bra off in one tug.
The cold nippled at my skin, but the minute my exposed skin was freed, I felt Harry lift the blanket to my shoulders again – but he didn't cover my front.
Keeping the covers shielded around me, mostly for warmth, but also just in case any of his staff members were out on an evening walk, he slowly kissed me down my neck and left a hot trail to warm me until I felt like I was burning up. His mouth lingered on my cleavage, before one warm hand suddenly came to my right breast.
I gasped softly as I felt his thumb caress my nipple. Then, the feel of his lips suddenly pressed against it, kissing it tenderly, as if he was kissing something fragile, but beautiful.
And he made me feel beautiful with every kiss of his lips.
Feeling his hands then slowly travel up my sides, he held onto me softly, but firmly as my hands buried in his hair, clinging to him. His lips roved across my chest, leaving no skin untouched and unappreciated.
I leaned in to his touch, already feeling that special kind of drunk I'd only ever experienced with him. My nipples were stiff from the cold, but aching as his lips softly closed around each of them, kissing and sucking them until they grew warm again. His hands palmed my breasts, making sure not one inch of me felt the summer night's gentle breeze, but only his hot breath as he exhaled against my chest, panting lightly.
I scrunched my fingers in his hair and arched again as he paused over my sternum, kissing me softly. Right over my heart.
So intimate.
So dangerous.
"Don't stop," I whispered when he seemed to rest against my chest, simply kissing me softly, caressing my skin with his thumbs. I leaned down and nibbled on his ear, dragging my fingers through his bottom wisps, down to his neck. "Don't stop," I repeated.
Dangerous words.
Instead of pulling back, I was surprised when I felt him suddenly shift and lift me as well. My whole world tilted, and I gasped as I felt myself being laid down on the same bench we were sitting on, the one running along the railing of the pavilion. I gripped on to the edge and then looked up when Harry climbed in over me, cupping my face. Our eyes met.
His eyes were so dark and so deep with emotion that I didn't have the complexity to understand what he was currently feeling or thinking. He looked at me as if I was a treasure... as if I was something so rare and beautiful that was only to be appreciated and worshipped by the most gentle and most caring of hands.
And yet, when I wasn't like this, he never gave me a second glance.
Bringing my hand up to his hair again, I grabbed the locks that had fallen onto his forehead as he leaned in over me, inches from my chest. I swept them back and made him cast a glance up at me as his lips hovered above my breasts, heaving with need.
I didn't want him to stop. Never.
But I also couldn't take this whiplash much longer.
Gripping the back of his head, I guided him to where I wanted him, and the second his lips closed around my nipple and sucked, I cried out softly and arched out.
I was going to drive myself crazy before the end of the summer.
~~~
I hauled my ass into work over the next two or three days. I was working on assignment number six, and I was almost done with it. It just needed a little fine-tuning and an extra glance. I didn't know how I had done it in shorter time than the last one, but in any case, I was this close to reaching the seventh and final assignment. And just in time as summer was coming to an end.
The weather had grown chiller over the past few weeks – some days still had a bit of warm sun to give, but I think the night in the lighthouse had been the last full summer day we would see this year. And although that saddened me, it was kind of a blessing when I now no longer had any excuses for not focusing on my work. No more sun to tan in and no more lovely days to spend outside in the fresh air. Just studying long days inside with my head aching with numbers. Yay.
It was around lunch time when I came down the stairs, intent on going to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat, when I saw Giselle coming out of the kitchen with a tray of food. I recognized the menu; A pot of tea and a plate of some delicious sandwiches with a small salad on the side. This was Harry's lunch.
"Hey," I called out. Giselle halted in her way and spotted me on the stairs. She shot me a bright smile. "Are you going to Harry with that?"
"Yes," She replied as I came down and joined her. "I was going to bring you a plate right after."
"Well, I'm going to see Harry right now. Do you want me to take it in for you?" I offered and gestured towards the tray. "I was going to see if he wanted to have lunch with me."
"Oh," Giselle's brows shot up. "You want me to bring your tray in to his office, then?"
"Please," I smiled, taking the tray when she gave a nod at my request. "If you don't mind."
"Not at all," She seemed almost thrilled at the idea. "Mr Devon never eats with others, unless he's with a colleague. I'm glad you're trying to get him more out of that office."
I smiled kind of awkwardly, maybe because that hadn't exactly been my intentions. I wouldn't say I had succeeded in bringing him more out of his office, but maybe I had forced him to be more social this summer? I didn't know.
"Well... I'll do my best," I said, seeing Giselle smile, before retreating back to the kitchen to fetch my tray.
I sighed myself, but then turned towards Harry's office and carefully opened the door, balancing the tray.
Walking in, I found Harry where he always was; sitting behind his desk, staring up at his blackboard with what I knew was a pensive face. I smiled a little, but then came closer.
"Hey," I voiced, walking up to his desk. "Busy?"
He sighed deeply, but then slowly spun his chair around. "No."
Turning towards me, I was met by his usual handsome appearance and combed hair. Today he wore a gray button-up shirt with dark green pants. His tie matched his pants, a deep green with a few thin, black stripes on.
Setting the tray of food down on his desk, I smiled when he raised his brow at me, obviously not used to seeing me delivering his food. "I was hoping you would have lunch with me."
"Do I have a choice?" He questioned redundantly.
I opened my mouth, but that same second, Giselle knocked on the door and came in with my lunch tray.
"Not really," I mused and sat down on the side of his desk, watching Giselle give me a quick smile before silently setting my tray down beside his. I thanked her and then watched her leave as quietly as she came.
Harry followed her with his gaze, pursing his lips a little as she closed the door behind herself and left us alone in his office. "Do I need to have a talk with my staff and remind them of whom they're working for?"
"Oh, relax. It's just lunch," I rolled my eyes and reached for my sandwich. I didn't care what anyone said; sandwiches were eaten with hands, not forks and knives. "If it's too social for you, you can just be quiet and listen to me talk."
His lips twitched a little, but he then reached for the napkin on his tray after a moment and placed it in his lap. "As opposed to the usual change of pace, you mean."
I was going to ignore that snide comment. "So I'm almost done with assignment number six. I hope you're ready to hand over assignment number seven."
"I can hardly wait."
"I don't know, but somehow I think this one was easier? I mean, I solved it faster. So either I'm getting better or you're slacking off," I teased him, seeing him pick up his cutlery. He started with the salad.
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Or maybe I'm just getting better than you," I licked a bit of curry dressing off my thumb and smirked when Harry shot me a dry glance. "Don't feel bad. It happens with old age."
"Did you come in here just to insult my intelligence and my age?"
"No, but it's fun," I grinned and took a bite of my sandwich. He shook his head a little, but then started eating his salad as well. "So how's your thingy coming along?" I finally said and nodded towards his blackboard.
He chewed off a bite of his sandwich without looking up. "Fine."
"Really? Because I haven't seen you work on in for a couple of days."
"And that means I'm having trouble?"
"Well... aren't you?" I questioned, swallowing a bite and raising a brow at him. If he was having trouble with his equation or problem or whatever he was working it, there was no shame in admitting it. But maybe he wasn't too keen on saying aloud anyway. Either way, I knew he hadn't touched that blackboard in days.
Harry chewed for a moment, then laid down his cutlery and dabbed his mouth with his napkin. Then, leaning back and folding his hands in his lap, he pursed his lips a little. "Actually, I do have a problem I've been working on for days."
"Anything I can help you with?" I offered, almost with a humorous tone, because we both knew it was unlikely I could be of actual help here if it was about his math. "I'm still good with moral support."
He gave me a dry glance, but I saw the way his eyes still twinkled with bemusement. Then, he looked down at his folded hands. "I haven't worked on the problem on the board for days because there's nothing left to work on."
Say what? "You mean..."
"– I solved it."
My mouth went slack. Blinking twice, my eyes automatically flipped up to the board. "You solved it? It's done? What is it?"
He smiled faintly. Almost sadly. "The Birch and Swinnerton-Dyer conjecture of finite and infinite numbers."
My eyes now also went wide. "You mean that problem you and your friend has been working on?"
"I was merely helping him write a thesis about the problem. To better understand it, I started to work on it, just to get a better look into the dilemma. After our lunch, he had so many flaws in his thesis that I tried to point out to him. He refused to believe me, so I continued onward with the problem," He nodded up at the board where the text in front of me now suddenly seemed... almost sacred. "I never meant to solve it, but, then... it just came to me one night."
"You mean... that night you were writing in that little book?" I asked, seeing him give a single nod after a moment's pause. I swallowed dryly, feeling my throat suddenly feel tighter. Holy shit. Did that mean I had actually helped?
"The next morning I applied the last numbers to the problem and it somehow added up. I went over and over it again, but it seems to be... correct." He finished.
I frowned a little when his expression seemed less than thrilled. "But that's good news then, isn't it? I mean... your friend will be thrilled, won't he?"
Harry pressed his lips together, and that's when it hit me. He wouldn't be thrilled.
"Oh," I whispered to myself, lowering my gaze.
"If I admit my proof to the Millennium board and they deem it correct, my friend will be ridiculed on his thesis. It's due to publish tomorrow," He voiced.
"And you can't call him and tell him you solved it, because then he'll think you went behind his back and used his research to help solve it," I finished for him, seeing him slowly nod.
"In truth, I did the exact opposite of what he did," Harry rubbed his his chin with his thumb as his brows creased into a tight mien. "He wouldn't listen to me that day. If I publish it, it'll look like I tried to deliberately make a fool of him."
Well, shit. I had no idea the mathematic world could be so competitive and scheming. Even though I could see his point, it still didn't make the fact that he had nonetheless solved it any less true. Or amazing.
"So... what are you going to do?" I asked, turning my eyes to see Harry staring up at his blackboard as well.
His lips twitched a little. "And in there lies my problem."
"Damn," I murmured, staring up at the board like him. I couldn't believe it... "Wait... does this mean... you solved another millennium prize-worthy problem?" Was I looking at a million bucks right now?
"I suppose that's correct."
"And you're contemplating not sharing it with the world and getting a million dollars... all because you don't want to stab your friend in the back?" I stated, now turning my eyes down to Harry in disbelief to see him chuckle quietly.
"You know I don't care about the money," He dismissed and then sighed, spinning his chair around. "My only dilemma is whether or not to let him publish his thesis and let him make a fool out of himself by himself, or publish this to save him from inevitable humiliation and public scrutiny, but subsequently also offend him."
– And my biggest dilemma of the day had been whether to wear my comfy panties or a thong.
I couldn't believe real world people actually had trouble like this. Harry's world really was a strange one. Conniving brothers, pregnancy scams... and now million dollar dilemmas. It really put things into perspective.
"And you'll be called a bastard either way," I said, now leaning back on his desk to observe him start to go through his drawers, looking for something. "Either by the public for double-crossing your friend, or by your friend for solving it behind his back."
"And that is why I'm not going to do anything about it."
He finally found what he was looking for, which turned out to be an old Polaroid camera which had collected a bit of dust at the back of his drawer. He blew on it a bit and started to check the lens while I processed his words.
"You're not... going to do anything about it?" I echoed, watching him use his napkin to clean the dusty lens. "So you're just going to shelf the solution that I'm sure thousands of mathematicians have worked the majority of their lives trying to solve, all to save a friend from some gunfire?"
Harry chuckled a little again, but then turned around and stood up, turning on the camera. "I can always change my mind later."
I snorted, but shook my head with a smile as he started to aim the camera. He shot a snap of it, the camera spitting out the picture with a whirring sound. "Okay, just wait then. Hold on for a moment."
I jumped off the desk as Harry rose a brow and watched me march up to the blackboard. I puffed up my hair and fixed my dress, before making a big deal out of standing like a car model, showcasing off the blackboard with an exaggerated smile.
"Alright, go ahead."
Harry shook his head, but I saw his lips lift as he lifted the lens again and took another picture. I smiled extra sweetly and cheesily, just for good measure.
The camera flashed, and with another whirring sound, it started spitting it out. As I walked back to the desk, Harry grabbed the little square piece and let it air dry.
"There. Now at least you can say you did your best to make it look interesting," I chirped as he gave me a flat look. I still had no idea what this problem proved, but at least now there was a hot lady in it.
"Thank you," He replied, a little too facetiously for my taste. I chose to ignore this one as well.
"So now what?" I asked as I sat back down on the desk, continuing to eat my sandwich. "You wipe the board down and start on the next big problem? How many are left anyway? And how many of them have you solved? I feel like you should give someone else a chance."
He chuckled again and sat down in his chair, laying both the pictures and the camera back down to where they had come from. "Where's the sport in that?"
I pursed my lips as he picked up his cutlery and resumed eating his lunch as well. "Some day, someone is going to slap you."
And as he chuckled and sipped his tea to that, I silently thought that person might just end up being me.
• • •
We love a good slap.