Wednesday

The class Gianna was in had to write a text about psychology. Gianna sent me an e-mail yesterday already with way more that thousand words.

They got work to do do while I read the ones the others from the class sent me before I came in. They all just reached the bare minimum of the words I told them to write.

But the difference between hers and the others isn't just the amount of words. It's the writing itself. She doesn't even have to write why she's passionate about it- she just is.

And maybe the reason that I am interested in her writing is not the real reason why I probably read the text fucking six times already.

Maybe it's because I'm interested in her as a person and as far as I know- this text is her. She puts her whole soul in this theme. That's what I adore about her so damn much.

The class ended sooner than I thought. But as the students were walking down to get out of the room, I saw her.

"Mrs. Travino. A word, please. Shut the door behind you." She hesitated for a moment as she looked at her friends. "It won't take long." I assured her. Seems like she had plans after school, which would be now.

Gianna finally waved her friends away to get out and then slowly... so, so slowly closed the door. God, she looks amazing today... she looks awfully good every day. Everything about her is so fucking tempting...

Good sense of fashion for all that I know about it. Her clothing sense is classy, rich. What a surprise. Mostly Valentino, Versace and Dior from what I've seen. Awfully much leather things. She's wearing a leather suit-overall thing. She looks so clean, so mature, so... so beautiful. The woman is a tease.

She still has her left hand on the handle of the door when I spot the tattoo of a butterfly on the back of her hand. I ran my fingers over it so many times that night, I would know the outlines by heart with my eyes closed.

Gianna also has one on her right side of her ribs. I couldn't quite figure it out what it should be. It was a circle that looked like one side of it was a sun and the other one would have been half of a moon.

I loved looking at it and feeling the need to know what it was because then I,... there would be another thing I knew about this woman. And I really wanted to know more about her.

I wanted to figure her out. Her quietness. Her beauty. Her character. I wanted to know what she liked and disliked. Her guilty pleasure even.

Gianna made her way over to me, her heels clacking on the hardwod floor until she stands so near I would just have to reach my hand out and grab her. It would be easy.

"I liked your writing. Didn't believe a single word in the letters the others wrote. The only letter I knew was filled with nothing but truth was yours."

"Is this why you wanted to talk with me?" She asked as she folded her arms in front of her chest. She does that a lot. Almost like everytime she builds a shield when she feels unsure about something...

I lean against my table and copy her movements. "You didn't tell me you were studying psychology that evening.." I told her. Her lips pulled up in a small smile. I could see that from ten miles away.

"You didn't tell me you were teaching it either." Touché... then. Suddenly a question pulled on my nerves, needing to know the answer to it.

"Would it have changed your mind if we would have found out you were going to be my student two days after that night?" I asked her. She hesitated. Then looked at me. "Would it have changed yours?"

And then I was the one hesitating... and answered before I properly thought about it. "Probably, yeah."

Never. I would've wanted it even more...

Gianna took a depp breath at my answer and then looked away from me. "Then we both have the same thing in mind." She says. Is she sad?

Aiden's word kept replaying in my head. Like a broken record that plays the same things over and over and over again.

I was relaxed after the night. I was satisfied. But I wouldn't risk my job for something that could only last for one night and then end for good.

I just got into this university. I'm not planning on leaving it anytime soon.

"Are we done here now?" "Is he your boyfriend?" The question shot out of my mouth at if it was a bullet coming straight out of a gun. "Who?"

"Mr. Jones." Gianna looked hurt at my question. "Is that what you think of me? That I would sleep with someone else- a stranger even. While I have a boyfriend?" Not sad. Disappointed would be the better word to her expression.

"I actually don't know what kind of person you are, Mrs. Travino. I actually know nothing about you than about your knowledge in the bedroom and in psychology. And I think it would be for the best if it would stay that way."

Gianna nodded as she avoided eye contact, rubbing her thumb against her butterfly tattoo. "Are we done here now?" She asks the second time. Harsher this time.

"Yes. Have a good evening, Mrs. Travino." She was out of the door, slamming it shut behind her as soon as her last name fell out of my mouth. Then it hit me.

I know nothing about you than about your knowledge in the bedroom...

It sounded as if I accused her for being a cheater and a slut. And I also said it as if I regretted our night together.

Fuck, Romano.

Well fucking done.

Guess we will never find out what this tattoo really means. Guess we will never ever see behind the facades of Gianna Ashley Travino.

_____

I really enjoyed writing this chapter for whatever reason hahahah. Maybe it's the vibe the song above gives it.

Comment your thoughts!!

Love you!