CHAPTER 1: ANIMA UXORIS
It's strange to be back in college again after two decades.
As they say, however, the more things change the more they stay the same. After the first two weeks I find myself easily falling back into the same old habits that served me well the first time around. Classes...study...copious amounts of coffee...more classes...more study.
I'm not sure exactly what prompted me to return to this environment. Maybe I simply needed a change after spinning my wheels in a pointless burnout for the last ten years.
I look up from the textbook I'm reading and decide to take a short, mental break. All this endless, dry reading has my eyes starting to swim. I inhale deeply and issue a long, drawn out sigh as I rub my temples lightly.
Leaning back in my chair I gaze around the library and note with a small sense of sadness how empty the place seems. With all the electronic means available now, very few of these kids want to crack open a real book. I can't help but feel old as I catch myself thinking this "back in my day" thought.
Not that I appear anywhere close to my real age, mind you. I'm not talking about being in my forties but looking thirty-something, either. I flat out look exactly the same as I did when I was twenty years old, which was over twenty years ago.
I'm a smidgen over six feet in height, possessing a lean but athletically built frame which I maintain with an hour of calisthenics and running every morning. I have short, black hair that hangs lightly against a face many a woman over the years has called "gorgeous", and my eyes are a liquid, emerald green that can be piercing or attention grabbing depending on my mood.
It's all a mask, though. The proverbial "sheep's clothing" that this wolf hides within.
I'm not exactly human. Eternal youth, if I play my cards right, is one of the side benefits of being what I am. Fravashi is what my people call themselves, though legends would call me an incubus.
It's not as bad as it sounds. I'm no soul-stealing demon sent from the pits of hell to rape women in their sleep. I promise.
Blah. My heart just isn't into my studies at the moment, and I can't help but feel like I'm grinding gears at this point. It's Friday afternoon, so I have all weekend to get around to this. I decide to head home and maybe relax for a while.
I gather my things, leave the library, and walk toward the parking lot. As I near my vehicle I notice a woman parked a few spaces from mine. One of her back tires has gone flat, and she's in the trunk of her car, struggling a bit as she pulls at a full-sized spare tire within. The sound of her muttering mild curses under her breath comes to my ears.
I can't help but regard the smooth slopes of her gentle, womanly curves. She's obviously in shape, probably a runner like me, but still has that soft, feminine aspect to her. Not bad at all. Very pleasing to the eyes from the back.
Call me old-school, but I firmly believe a gentleman offers a lady help in situations like these.
I clear my throat before asking, "Would you like help with that?"
"I got this," she insists in an angry tone without turning to face me.
She grunts and finally yanks the spare free. The tire swings out and around and bounces from the ground a few times, the woman leaning on it briefly and emitting a heavy huff of relief. She stands and turns to face me.
Despite the look of irritation on her face, my breath is knocked from my lungs at her raw, natural beauty. Her raven-black hair is thick and wavy, cascading down to her shoulders like a waterfall of shimmering ink. There is a very light smattering of freckles over her cheekbones and across the bridge of her dainty nose, below which lies a pair of voluptuous, pouty lips. Long, lush lashes surround a pair of pale blue, ice-colored eyes.
Those stunning, unique eyes grab hold of me, and my heart skips a beat or two as my mouth drops open a hair. Her eyes are like a deep winter well, and I want to throw myself into their cool depths. I haven't felt an attraction this strong since...let's just say for a very, very long time.
She stares at me for a lengthy moment as I fight to regain my wits, an inscrutable look on her face. I'm guessing she's in her mid-twenties, probably an undergraduate senior or perhaps enrolled in this university's grad school program.
"I'm sorry," she apologies for her brusqueness, her tone softening. "I don't mean to be rude, but I have this handled."
I feel a profound disappointment at her refusal of assistance. It would have been nice to speak with her, however briefly, but I sense she's having one of those "life moments". Something has her angry and stressed, and nothing I do or say right now would earn me any of her time.
"That's okay," I say, giving her the friendliest smile I can muster. "I can respect someone who isn't afraid to get their hands dirty. Have a nice day."
I turn to leave with a heavy weight on my soul, and I can't help but curse my luck. It's as if poor timing on my part has ruined something that was otherwise destined to be. I could
make
her accept my help by reaching in her mind and gently pushing her toward accepting my will, but that isn't the sort of thing I do without a damn good reason. That would be worse than simply walking away. It's no way to start a relationship.
Alternately, I could peer inside and
read
her mind, using anything I glean to strike up a conversation. I'm hardly what you'd call a master, but I'm pretty decent at reading surface thoughts. That would be just as bad, though. It's an invasion of privacy that, once again, I don't ever do without a damn good reason.
I'm fully prepared to file this chance meeting into the "what could have been" cabinet when she speaks again, her sylph voice stopping me dead in my tracks.
"I...I'm Phaedra," she gives her name with slight hesitation.
I spin back around and gaze into those stirring eyes of hers again. Maybe all is not lost? A long forgotten feeling takes root in my somber heart, a feeling I never thought I'd experience again.
Hope.
"I'm Max," I return the introduction.
She hesitates again, as if considering something, and then steps forward a pace. She sticks out a dirt and rubber smudged hand. I grasp it lightly, trying not to make my grip too firm or too sloppy as I give her a quick handshake.
"Really, though...thank you for the offer, Max," she says as she releases my grip.
"You're welcome," I nod.
"Maybe...maybe I'll see you around," she says with that same hesitation in her voice.
Is she feeling it too? Can she feel that same, inexorable pull toward me that I feel toward her? If it's destiny then I
will
see her again.
"I hope so," I smile, feeling a touch awkward now. "That would be nice."
I kick myself mentally. I'm usually much more suave than this, but she's making my mind feel like a quivering bowl of Jello.
"Take care," she tells me.
Phaedra starts to roll the spare tire into position. Although she turns to shoot me a brief, sidelong glance, I sense our short interaction has come to a close.
"You too," is all I can manage.
* * * * * *
My head is still a-spin when I plop down on the poofy cushions of my living room couch. Using the clicker to flick on the TV, I mindlessly surf channels while only half watching. Nothing grabs my attention, so I shut off the tube after a few minutes.
Leaning back, I realize I can't get Phaedra out of my head.
There is movement from the nearby hallway, and I see my roommate Charli walk into the living room. "Roommate" is a bit of an understatement, though. Like me she is Fravashi, but she's a succubus, the female counterpart to the male incubus. If not for Charli I'd probably be dead by now, having ended myself with a downward spiral of self-destruction. After my life-shattering loss those ten long years ago, she took me in and cared for me when she didn't have to...kept me sane...kept me alive.
I'll always love her for that, but it's more like the love of family mixed with a romantic kind of feeling. I know from a human standpoint that sounds badly twisted, but I'm Fravashi...not human. Things like this aren't exactly the same for us. Though Charli and I aren't related by blood
