Talking Without Speaking

I'm late for class. I run up two flights of stairs and open the door to the dark lecture theatre, for a moment I stand in the darkness trying to see. As my vision gets better, I realize I am pretty much staring straight at you. I put down my bag on the front seats, which are never occupied. I sit down, painfully avoiding your gaze; I didn't expect you to be lecturing us again, never mind today.

I take as long as possible to get out my exam pad, hoping that you will continue speaking without me having to look up first- as silence had fallen when I entered earlier. You start talking again – I look up. I can tell by the speed at which you move your head when I look up at you, that you were looking at me. I turn away and stare at the words projected in front of me. I'm not listening, I think of your wrists and how badly I want to look at you – but I don't want you to see me looking at you.

The lecture continues like this for an hour, I sneak looks at you and you immediately notice. Like always we are either awkwardly staring at each other or awkwardly looking away trying to make it look like we're not looking. I wonder how come my classmates aren't extremely suspicious of how you stare at me like that. Also how are you possibly still making sense?

I didn't- well actually couldn't sleep last night. Yesterday I actually saw you on campus again and you (as with everything between us (how little there may be)) awkwardly and not without a bit of fear, waved at me. Sigh.

If I sit like this with my foot on the chair and my elbow on my knee, with my hand supporting my head, I can smell this morning's act of attempted masturbation. Smells good. I see you looking at my hand; do you know what I'm doing? I decide that, I in fact want you to know what I'm doing and thinking of you.

You are fucking hot and way too old for me and that doesn't really describe you, as you are actually quite odd-looking - and not the traditional girl-with-big-boobs 'hot'- in fact I'm starting to believe you don't have any – maybe slightly distended nipples, that's it. The first time I saw you, was when you gave me class as a first year. Only one class, one period and one day. Such an exciting lecture and you seemed to ooze intelligence. And of course I couldn't stop thinking of you.

I had just started coming out to everyone at school that I'm a dyke and was very very excited at all the very good looking androgynous girls around. I dress in a quite masculine way (and feel like I'm in drag in a dress), and often get the pretty girls interested in me, but I am much more excited by the more butch looking girls and, and YOU- oh wow, so handsome!

Anyway so I'm second year now and you're thirty-three. Also you are a lecturer and I'm a student and I am way too intimidated to talk to you even though we are both clearly interested- or so it seems anyway.

Class is over and I run off first, trying to escape the rush of people, but mostly trying to as fast as possible get away from you. As I walk down the stairs again, with bodies squashing and loudly conversing, I have pretty much just this thought milling in my mind: I want you I want you I want you I want you.

I walk slowly, furiously looking about trying to get a glimpse of you as I go out the main entrance, and then you're next to me. You're not looking at me. I edge closer to you so I can bump into you-to feel your lovely skin.

As our elbows bump together you look up. That smirk on your face, as though you knew what I'm doing. I'm encouraged and smile at you – you return the gesture without hesitating. But now we're outside and suddenly its too open and we have no excuse to be so close together and we split up. I look up to give you a final look and go to the library- but you are standing there looking lost and indecisive—but looking directly at me.

Oh God.

I looked away after seeing you like that but I quickly look back up at you- you start looking away but stop. We silently stare. Then magically we're not staring anymore and we are talking but without moving an inch.

You say you want me.

I say please.

I realize that we can't turn back to just staring after this. It's too much- I'm looking down at my hand, busy playing with a ball of paper.

You reach down and take the ball, and put it in your left hand. You pick up mine and I start oddly and very slowly rubbing our palms together. Then you frantically grab my arm. I look up at you. Wow.

You're at least a head taller than me and you pull me by the belt towards your thin boyish body with your lovely long arms. The sound of my breathing says it all.

I take advantage of your height and nuzzle my head just under your neck. Then somebody bumps into us and I realize we're standing in the main entrance of the building and the last of your students are still coming out. I feel your body stiffening. I look up at you. I grab your hand, but you're not coming with me. I'm scared and tug harder. You look at me – bewildered. I manage a smile. You slowly start moving. And then we're running, first me in front pulling you along. Now you start running out in front of me, there's a big crowd of people and I let go of your hand as we navigate through, still moving very fast.

Out of breath, I stop running. You turn around, look at the groups of people behind us and then stop as well. You start laughing.

Another lecturer comes along right then, begging you to go with him to get coffee. You look at me very intensely for a flash and then you smile at his questioning face, and walk off with him- leaving me very puzzled.

I watch you walking away, talking to him. I take my bag, and head in the direction of the library. But with my mind and body abuzz with all this, I decide to go home and make some dinner instead. I walk over to my bike, looking around all the time for a glimpse of you. No luck.

I'm not hungry- so horny. So excited and nervous about you, and I've had too much sugar today. My mind's going crazy – and I'm definitely not understanding the reading that I'm busy with. So I'm still masturbating and it's three o'clock and I get the divine inspiration to check on facebook if you hadn't possibly maybe looked up my profile and then left me a message. You didn't. Maybe I should leave you one- I already looked up your profile months ago. But I'm too scared maybe you don't really want me- or something- and I decide against it. I finally finish my reading and remember that I need to check my school email address for our Essay topic. It's almost four o'clock-- and there it is, no essay topic email – but your email!!

I read and reread it till I finally realized what you're saying.

In a surreal awkwardness I walk up to you, I don't look at you- I know you see me approaching. The people around you unaware of these billions of little strings we have attached to each other. The tension is more than tangible it's killing me. Coming closer and closer to your body- I mainly think about your skin as I come closer but there is also a big part of me busy debating whether I ought to be doing this and if I could still turn back safely. I sneak a look at you, but you're holding my gaze and look right at me. I turn to look away, but decide firmly against it and force myself to look back. You stop talking and turn towards me, still defiantly looking me straight in the eye. Please. I so so badly want you. I would say it but I'm paralyzed with fear and lust being so close to you- with you looking so completely at me.

'Two tickets, with student discount please.'

I've never been on a date to the cinema with anyone before, I guess because I haven't dated that many people, but mostly because I have a great distaste for the kind of cliché that there is in it. But this time you made the right call. It's the only place we can be close together socially without needing to talk to each other or really look at each other- just allowing ourselves to get over the months of awkwardness that preceded this moment.

In a kind of holy silence we find our seats, and sit down. I grin at you, you return it- but neither of us are exactly sure where we're standing. I look at the screen, but I'm only vaguely aware of the storyline, because you are busy nervously scratching the corduroy material covering your long legs. I decide hundreds of times to muster up the courage to take your hand- but of course I don't. CHICKENSHIT.

The movie is finished and we're back to being anxious and awkward – but in not knowing what to do, we just keep sitting as the room empties. You look at me- my first impulse is to look down. I force my eyes back to yours but you're looking away now. Looking down at your hands- I remember you and me and the paper ball and I crazily get the idea that this is you saying you want me to take your hand. I sit there for a moment considering- but then I just grab your hand. Shocked by the sudden contact and the rush of sensation I gasp out loud- you start giggling. We smile and the awkwardness is gone though I still feel quite sheepish.

Your laughing calms down and once again we're looking at each other, somehow very seriously. You put your hand on my neck (oh fuck!!!) and smile at me, you pull me closer to your face and to those scary intelligent loving eyes and you wetly kiss my cheek. Both of us seem to stand still at this and in a mad frenzy I grab your arm and pull you into me. You react by pulling me (with your hand still on my neck) closer to that unbelievably erotic stare in your eyes. And your lips are touching mine and I close my eyes and I bite your lower lip and then start sucking my way into an uncontrollable kiss. (Fuck!)

This story is not yet finished as this is where this relationship is pretty much at and I will continue writing as it progresses! Please leave any comments - i welcome any advise, criticism or potential of meeting interesting people.