430 - Emma
My students are getting more and more curious, and I can't blame them. With all of the articles and cospiracies floating around, I'd want to ask questions too, yet I don't answer any of them and make it my daily task to avoid any gossip.
It's getting harder and harder, though, because my mind wanders to him every waking moment, and I can't help but smile whenever he's brought up.
Seven more days. One more week. Then he'll be here, hopefully for a few days. We'll get to spend most of our time together, though I might have to take a few trips to Glasgow to teach. I've already missed two weeks of work, I can't take another week off again.
To keep myself occupied, I've been scrolling through flats for rent online. I know it's silly, but it's a nice way to think about the future without panicking.
I find beautiful places, some even with a yard, and plenty of space for guests. I've made a little list of requirements for myself, stored safely on my phone.
All I want is a bath tub, a big kitchen, natural light, and a spare bedroom. That's it. Knowing Lucien, he'd have other wishes, but we could probably work that out. One day, when we're ready to move in together, which probably isn't going to be any time soon. That's crazy, we've only been back together for a week weeks.
Then again, Kenna and Tom moved in after being together for four months, and look where that got them - married and parents to the most adorable little girl in the whole wide world. I've been spending a lot of time with them, again, making sure to babysit Emilia from time to time so they get to go out and do couple things.
Time spent alone, at home, feels wasted, so I make sure to keep myself busy. I've been going to therapy, and have picked my dance classes back up. Besides those things, I've used my latest salary to invest in something that's terrifying to me: driving lessons. The first time I got into the car almost gave me a panic attack, but my instructor is lovely and totally understood where I was coming from when I told him. We're taking it slow, but he's told me I'm a total natural.
After that, I started getting the hang of it. It's still scary to me, but I've gotten better, and if I continue this way, I might be able to get my drivers license before the summer.
I've had dinner and finished grading all of my students' assignments, laying on my couch once more. It's friday, my day off, and the last day I'll have to spend sleeping alone. Tomorrow, around this time, I'll hopefully have Lucien to hold me as I lay in this exact position.
I've prepared everything - cleaned the appartment, did laundry, made the bed, even did groceries for dinner tomorrow. After dinner I went as far as to shave every possible inch of my body, washed my hair and did some skin care.
Every fiber in my being longs to be with Lucien again. It's different than in France, in every single way.
Him being here feels natural, whereas being in his house, with Jacques du Castellon possibly walking in at any moment, I didn't feel like I could truly be myself.
"Right," I lecture Frank, who I've just had to scold for scratching at my sofa, "when Lucien comes tomorrow, you're going to have to be on your best behaviour. No scratching, no hissing, no loud meowing at the crack of dawn, okay?"
He answers with a meow, stretching out entirely then hopping off of the couch and disappearing into the kitchen, probably on the hunt for food we both know he won't find.
My phone rings only moments later, the ringtone letting me know Lucien is calling. I think about making him sweat for a second, but I can't wait to hear his voice much longer.
"That took you long enough," his smile comes through the phone, and if I could I'd pull him right through so I could hold him tightly.
"I could've just not picked up at all," I tell him, hearing him tut loudly.
"But that would've done the both of us a terrible disservice."
"Are you calling just to hear my voice, or are you about to be the bearer of bad news?" In his line of work, I could very well imagine he's about to tell me he has to take one more trip before stopping in Edinburgh, or how he's been invited to one more event before he can come see me. That he'll just be a day later, maybe two.
"No bad news," he tells me, reassuring me. "Just wanted to let you know my flight is booked and I'll land at exactly eleven past five in the afternoon."
"Want me to pick you up?" I ask, putting the phone on speaker as I paint my nails.
"No need, traffic will be hell since it's the weekend."
"You mean you don't want to feed this entire media circus by letting us get photographed in a tight embrace at the airport?" I tease. "I was just about to buy you a balloon and make a massive sign."
"Sorry to hurt your feelings," he chuckles, "maybe next time, when we've made our relationship public again."
"I'll keep you to that, du Castellon."
"Also," his tone of voice changes a little, "more good news."
"Test results came back. All clear, my love."
I let out a sigh of relief. "Good... I can't wait."
"For what, exactly?"
"It's way too early for phone sex, du Castellon."
He laughs loudly. "Is it now? It's.... way past midnight over here."
"In that case...," I chuckle, "it's way past your bedtime, too. I'll see you tomorrow."
And before he can disagree, I've hung up on him. With the biggest grin, and the most mischevious feeling, I head over to my bedroom, where I've hung up a mirror. Not even five minutes later, I've taken a picture that wouldn't look bad in Playboy, and after carefully making sure there's nothing on the photo that could point to it being me, I send it to Lucien.
Sweet dreams - see you tomorrow. X
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