The burning wood in the fireplace crackled pouring light and warmth into the vast room. Walls floor to ceiling lined with books and shelves. The glow of the fire made everything in the room look like burnt sugar and honey casting about a calming sense of feeling. But on the contrary an infuriated man hurled a large thread bound text against the wooden wall in anger letting out an estranged growl in doing so. He let his gaze linger on the dent in the wall. He rubbed his palms over his face and massaged his eyes lightly as he did so. All my life's work stolen and passed off as hers his brain grumbled. Yes it was true that he didn't have to care any more about it because the death of his parents left him with the estate and a fortune to enable that he never needed to work a day more in his life. Still what did he work so hard for? For that wicked wench to get credit? He thought that they were friends, partners. Now he felt betrayed.
The sun had not long set and it was cold outside on the brink of winter. Storming out of the room he drew on his long coat climbed into his car and drove to her. Why did he always find himself going to her? Cursing under the stars as he approached the town's tavern he didn't know what he was going to do when he saw her. Christopher Hummington was not the sort of man who hit women. He was well mannered, polite, hardworking and honest like every good man should be. He knew she would be in there. Bursting through the door to the pub, he spotted her almost instantly. There she was, Laura Summer. They'd laughed at her that she was so pale her last name did not define her. But then again Irish women often are.
Her hair was long red and wavy against her smooth skin exposed in the open back of her black dress. She was sitting on a stool leaning with her elbows against the bar counter. Everything about her was so feminine. He watched the way her shoulders descended to her small waist and then flared to her wide hips. It had been almost twelve years since he had last seen her, since they had last spoken. His boots monstrously thudded the hard wood floors as he pushed unsuspecting people out of his way in the noisy crowded room. When he reached her she too was unsuspecting as he grabbed her by the elbow. "HEY! What the Hell..." she started, but as she turned she gaped at the site of who was standing behind her. Her eyes widened, "Christopher?" she questioned out loud.
"We need to talk," he grumbled still gripping her elbow and dragging her outside. She was all but stumbling as he pulled her. Outside the pub it was much quieter. He pulled her around the building into an alley, cornering her against the wall.
"The book Laura, its half of my work. How could you do this? We worked together on the research. And you publish it without my permission? Without my knowledge? Without my reference? Its mine too Laura. But you gave me no recognition!" He said, the words leaving his lips in a soft white condensate as he spoke in the chill of the November air.
She looked up at him into his eyes. They were the same icy blue as she had remembered. But he seemed so different now. Laura and Christopher were studying at Cambridge University when they were both working on research in plant pathology. But when Christopher's parents died he had been overcome with so much grief that he left town. There were rumours that he became a monk and some thought that he died. But all he really wanted to do was get away and so that was what he did. He had travelled the world, climbed mountains, sailed the oceans and tried relentlessly to find his soul. But after so many years he found himself back home. He was tired.
"What was I supposed to do Chris? You left us. And I was the one who finished our research. You didn't deserve to be given recognition to. I finished it while who knows what you were doing. You left me in the middle," Laura countered in her Irish drawl, "I had no clue where you were for years. No calls, no messages, no visits. You simply left leaving no one with any idea of where you were. I was almost sure that you were dead Christopher!" She was almost angry. But the cold was now biting into her skin and her exposed back pressed against the stone wall made her flinch. Laura shivered.
"Where is your coat?" Christopher demanded impatiently.
"Well you dragged me out so urgently I didn't exactly have time to grab it so it's still inside." She gritted between her clattering teeth.
Christopher sighed and shrugged off his coat and draped it around her slender shoulders. She seemed smaller to him. As if she had lost weight. He was looking at her now. Her cheeks were not this gaunt but they still flushed pink and her hair was still full and beautiful. She was still beautiful with her big brown eyes blinking up at him.
Without his coat Laura could see that Christopher was not the same skinny, nerdy boy she was accustomed to twelve years ago. His shoulders looked broader in his crisp blue shirt and the muscles of his flat chest and abdomen was tightly secured under a black vest. Of course she couldn't see it but his shape in the outside was divine. His arms were more muscular and his skin was evidently tanner as if he spent a lot of time out in the sun. He looked good she thought. His black hair was a shaggy mop on the top of his head.
Christopher was staring into her eyes and his gaze raked over her face resting on her lips. He thought back to the day he left. He always liked this girl but she never had that interest in him. He had wanted to tell her he was leaving but he decided it would be better not to. He wanted to kiss her then and tell her how he felt, that he felt so much for her but what use would it have been. Standing this close to her and inhaling her delicious smell made him want to kiss her again. NO! He told himself, he hadn't come here for this. But her lips looked just as delicious as it did twelve years ago. And he felt a tension between them building.
"Christopher," she whispered quietly interrupting his sentiments. He moved involuntarily into the small space separating their bodies, beaconing to her call. Her breathing grew shallow as she drunk in his appearance. He had been so angry just a moment ago. He placed both his palms flat against the wall behind her on the sides of her head. He leaned in his head and pressed his forehead against hers. They both remained breathing. "Im sorry," she exhaled closing her eyes, "I shouldn't have done what I did with the text, I'm sorry Christopher." There was no denying her guilt. He pulled away from her running his fingers through his thick black hair.
"How long have you been back home Chris?" Laura asked.
"Just about a week now," he replied putting his cold hands into his pocket.
"Where did you go?"
Christopher sighed, "It's a long story Laura. When I saw the papers published I was upset that you hadn't mention me. We were partners. I felt betrayed."
"I know," she said hastily.
"Don't worry about it I just wanted to know why."
"Christopher," There was sadness in her eyes now, "I really am sorry. What I did was terrible selfish and unprofessional"
