Valentine's Night

Celesta's finger gingerly traced the spines of the books on the shelf inside Jeremiah's study.

He'd been avoiding her like the plague ever since New Year after she'd initiated their passionate New Year's kiss, but had never officially withdrawn his permission for her to use the books in his personal library. 

Besides, it was Valentine's Night and Jeremiah would be out on his date for hours.

Relieved of her maid's duties, Celesta was dressed for comfort in her favourite oversized sweatshirt that hung seductively off of one shoulder, flannel pajama shorts and fluffy ankle socks. She'd planned to borrow a book or two, retreat to the maid's quarters and read until she fell asleep. Or until she heard Jeremiah's car pull up in the driveway - whichever came first.

Thrumming through the pages of the book she had selected, Celesta was about to make her way out of the room when she froze at the unexpected sound of the doorknob turning. 

She pressed herself back against the bookshelf in a feeble attempt to conceal herself and watched as Jeremiah himself strode inside.

Celesta breathed a silent sigh of relief; the staff at Harlequin Manor weren't permitted to enter the Harlequin's private quarters when they weren't on duty and no-one else in the house knew about the agreement between them. The other half of her felt a sense of embarrassment and panic - this was the first time they'd come face-to-face with one another since New Year and there was only one door in the room so there was no way she would be able to get out of there without him noticing. Or so she thought.

Jeremiah seemed barely aware of his surroundings as he paused in the doorway before slowly closing it behind him. He was still wearing the suit he'd left the house in but his tie hung loosely around his neck, his dinner jacket slung casually over his shoulder and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to the elbows. 

He swiftly tossed the jacket onto a nearby chair along with his keys, sighing heavily. He adjusted his glasses and briefly rested his hands on his hips as if contemplating what to do next, before fixating on a cabinet in the corner. 

Celesta watched as he made his way across the room in just a few purposeful steps, un-pop the stopper from a half-drunk bottle of whisky, pour it into a glass and bring it to his lips where he knocked it back in one go. Her gaze darted from Jeremiah to the door and back to Jeremiah again - he hadn't even noticed that his desk-lamp was switched on; would he notice if she snuck out of the room?

However, her desire to stay and be near him overrode her embarrassment as she watched him pour another drink and take it over to the window where he proceeded to stand with his forehead pressed forlornly against the glass. 

It was a night made for lovers. The full moon glowed in the crystal clear night sky, causing the vast snowy hillsides to shimmer and glisten in it's light. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Celesta ventured gently, stepping out from her non-hiding place. 

Jeremiah caught her reflection in the window and turned his head quickly to look at her, before turning his attention back to the view outside, "Yeah, it is pretty spectacular," he agreed. "You know they say the snow's going to keep coming down throughout the night? I don't see how though, there doesn't seem to be a cloud in sight?" He added, looking upwards.

Inwardly, Celesta breathed a sigh of relief that he didn't seem angry or annoyed with her. Even so, she didn't want to push her luck, "Listen, um, I'm sorry - I thought you'd be gone a lot longer,  and it wasn't my intention to be here when you got back," she explained as she backed towards the door, "You probably just want to be alone." She turned, her fingertips brushing over the brass of the doorknob.

"Actually, I could kind of use the company." 

Celesta paused and glanced over her shoulder. Jeremiah, whose body language had relaxed considerably since he'd first entered the room, was perched on the edge of the window sill, shoulders hunched, his long legs outstretched before him, crossed at the ankles. His profile was beautiful, illuminated in part by the golden glow of the desk-lamp and the cool moonlight from outside. 

Her heart was in her throat as she turned and made her way back into the room, looking every bit the shy teenager, clutching her chosen book tightly to her chest. He wants to spend time with me, her inner voice chimed.    

"Come, sit," Jeremiah gestured with a motion of his head towards the couch next to and under the sill where he was sitting. 

Celesta tiptoed over to the couch and perched on the edge of the middle seat, it's leather cool against the bare skin of her legs. She placed the book on her knees and nervously began to play with the sleeves of her sweatshirt. 

"How old are you, Celesta?" He asked, staring into the bottom of his now empty whisky glass. 

"I'll be eighteen in May," she told him, causing him to cringe internally; he could've sworn she didn't look or seem this young when they'd kissed at New Year? A moment ago he'd contemplated offering her a drink, thinking it would help her to relax but after hearing her confirm her age out loud, he thought better of it. 

"I don't mind if you drink, though," She quickly added. 

He sighed. After the realization that he'd not only reciprocated a kiss with a teenager, but that he hadn't been able to stop thinking about it since, another drink suddenly seemed like an order.

"What're you reading anyway?" He asked, eager to change the subject as he poured.

She held the book up to him and he squinted at the cover as he made his way from the cabinet to sit on the couch next to her. The Faerie Queen.

"Oh yeah, that's a good one," he mused. 

"You've read it?"

"Sure," he told her, "I've read most of these at least once," he gestured to the rows and rows of books on the other side of the room, "That one I've read about three or four times." 

Celesta nodded, impressed.