This man - this black haired boy with twinkling blue eyes makes her feel twelve years younger; he makes her laugh, blush and twitter like a twelve year old. He makes her want to pout her mouth and tease him for a kiss. He makes her check the hemline of her skirt ten times a minute to make sure it's not up to her waist.But Michael! Oh! Michael! Michael! Michael! Michael and the kids, Michael and his tireless work, Michael and his love, Michael and the sweet little things he does. Oh! Michael and his quiet way of telling her she can't be anyone she wants. Michael and the way he slammed the door on her that time at Hawaii.Oh! And Michael's apologies later. She told her confused, thirsting brain that she loved Michael. She loved Michael in a way that made her want to pronounce that word as three. But this man beside her - she knows with a certainty that dims everything else that he wants her, he wants to undress her, kiss her; he wants to... Oh! Fuck. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh God!. And of course she had become more and more of a nervous wreck as the day, and then the hour approached when James would come to pick her up, becoming so agitated during the last few minutes that when he finally did knock on her door, she had to clap her hands over her mouth to keep from yelping.But when she had finally managed, with trembling hands, to fumble the door open, he had greeted her as if they were old friends, gathering her into his arms for a short hug and then holding her at arms’ length for a moment before telling her how nice she looked. Then he had escorted her out of her dormTheir plans for the date had been kept very low-key, for which Diana was deeply thankful. Just dinner at the dining commons as usual, followed by a movie. James had kept up an easy flow of conversation, asking her about her classes, her music studies (she played the violin) and generally making it as easy as possible for her to keep up her end. Diana had stuttered and stammered badly at first but.
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