The moment in which he spoke seemed to stretch endlessly as Anthony gazed down into that perfect face. He saw - almost as if in slow motion - Ms. Torie’s brow pinch in confusion and then complete and utter mortification as her situation came back into focus. His heart leapt directly into his mouth and Anthony wished he could swallow it all back. He didn’t want to upset her. He definitely didn’t want to force that look on her face. Not again, not after what he’d learned the first time. Hands came up to cover her bosom fruitlessly and tears prickled at the corners of her eyes which from this distance were impossible to miss. Anthony didn’t know what to say. Words tripped over themselves is his mind and his mouth opened to communicate them but nothing came out.

It wasn’t until Ms. Torie finally seemed to compose herself, hands running frustratedly over her face, that Anthony realized. It was so obvious. “I’m sorry,” he forced out, quickly. The words were rushed and flustered, but all of a sudden he couldn’t stop them. “Please Torie, listen.” Already she was trying to scoot out from under him and flee. One hand came out to stop her, wrapping gently around her fingers, while the other continued to hold him upright. Despite knowing he ought to let her go easily, Anthony didn’t. He didn’t move a fraction from overtop; if she wanted to get away she’d have to give him a right shove.

“Please,” the brunette said again. “Let me explain!” Blue eyes danced back and forth, determined. “I’m sorry for being an ass. I should have stopped to listen to you on New Year’s Eve. I should have asked, I should have doubted my own assumptions. You don’t know how much it’s tortured me since! I—” he paused to bite his lower lip, hand loosening on hers marginally. His tone softened, nervousness beginning to creep into his expression. “I had meant to ask you that evening if… if you’d entertain courting me, seriously, with the intention of marriage. The realization that there could possibly be anyone else just…” He didn’t finish the statement, unsure exactly where it was going. He’d always known that there was a possibility of Basil and Victoire but seeing it like that, well…

“Please forgive me,” he pleaded quietly. “I just… I want to do this right. I don’t want us to make a mistake and then you realize, in a few weeks, that you actually can’t stand my terrible sense of humor.” He cracked a half smile, not enough for his dimple to show. “I couldn’t stand it if we jumped over this precipice and I ever did anything to hurt you like that again.”

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