“And that balances the equation. Problem solved.” Themis grinned, the familiar action of bringing order to chaos pleasing her. The last rays of the late autumn sun were weak but welcomed on her skin. She was more at home with her stars, but Themis had now experienced many sunsets in his office. It was becoming a habit, her free moments spent in Samuel’s office, diving headfirst into the alchemical world he showed her. Her own office saw less and less of her outside of hours she reserved for students. If she coaxed Samuel into joining her in the Astronomy Tower to make use of her favorite telescope now and then, it was only fair.
Their experiments were progressing splendidly, her comprehension of the subject growing and pushing the limits of what and how they worked. It was becoming addictive, the rush she felt when they defied the laws of magic, the indescribable sensation when the heat of his magic met hers. She craved it, found herself itching for the next encounter, the next time they would reshape the laws of nature. She was cautious in her emotions, taking care to remember that it was the work that fueled her; that it was scholarly ambition that united her and Samuel. Their bond was more than collegial, a friendship she never anticipated, but now cherished with every fiber of her being. If she was honest, it surprised her. If she was truly brave, she would admit that it frightened her. But Themis was a woman, not a girl stumbling through the early experiences in life. It was the depth of their connection that made this novel, nothing more; nothing to concern the skeptical scholar. If she found herself seeking his sly smiles, the glint of mischief in his eyes that promised her laughter, what of it? As she told him before, they were both too serious for their own good. They earned the right to moments of joy. If she could offer him those moments, coax a smirk from the unshakable sculpture of a man, why would she deny him?
“I think our issue rests in limiting ourselves to the Latin texts; I believe there may be value in examining the Germanic runes. And you haven’t heard a word I just said.” She bit her lip to suppress a grin, his nonreaction the only confirmation she needed. Her humor dissipated quickly as she took note of his posture, the sudden stiffness in his shoulders. She felt her body reacting, the urge to go to him strong. She was in motion before he finished his summons, the book of equations set gently at his side as her hand went to his. The ridges of his scars were familiar against her palm, the deep etchings in his hands fitting against the smooth skin of hers. She didn’t ask about the distinguishing marks, didn’t pry, but somewhere in their interactions, she had gone from ignoring the scars to valuing them. They were scars earned by ambition, by a ceaseless drive to challenge the world. She admired him for them, her hand tightening in his. “I can hear you thinking, Samuel.” She chided gently, her eyes searching for answers and finding none.
Their experiments were progressing splendidly, her comprehension of the subject growing and pushing the limits of what and how they worked. It was becoming addictive, the rush she felt when they defied the laws of magic, the indescribable sensation when the heat of his magic met hers. She craved it, found herself itching for the next encounter, the next time they would reshape the laws of nature. She was cautious in her emotions, taking care to remember that it was the work that fueled her; that it was scholarly ambition that united her and Samuel. Their bond was more than collegial, a friendship she never anticipated, but now cherished with every fiber of her being. If she was honest, it surprised her. If she was truly brave, she would admit that it frightened her. But Themis was a woman, not a girl stumbling through the early experiences in life. It was the depth of their connection that made this novel, nothing more; nothing to concern the skeptical scholar. If she found herself seeking his sly smiles, the glint of mischief in his eyes that promised her laughter, what of it? As she told him before, they were both too serious for their own good. They earned the right to moments of joy. If she could offer him those moments, coax a smirk from the unshakable sculpture of a man, why would she deny him?
“I think our issue rests in limiting ourselves to the Latin texts; I believe there may be value in examining the Germanic runes. And you haven’t heard a word I just said.” She bit her lip to suppress a grin, his nonreaction the only confirmation she needed. Her humor dissipated quickly as she took note of his posture, the sudden stiffness in his shoulders. She felt her body reacting, the urge to go to him strong. She was in motion before he finished his summons, the book of equations set gently at his side as her hand went to his. The ridges of his scars were familiar against her palm, the deep etchings in his hands fitting against the smooth skin of hers. She didn’t ask about the distinguishing marks, didn’t pry, but somewhere in their interactions, she had gone from ignoring the scars to valuing them. They were scars earned by ambition, by a ceaseless drive to challenge the world. She admired him for them, her hand tightening in his. “I can hear you thinking, Samuel.” She chided gently, her eyes searching for answers and finding none.
![[Image: Bka0H0x.jpeg]](https://i.imgur.com/Bka0H0x.jpeg)