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“I could spend the whole day in bed with you, Victor.”
“You have lectures.”
“I’m very hormonal and full of your semen right now.”
“Does that make you feel happy, Amy?’
“Yeah, very. It’s like my body approves of what we’re doing.”
“Does your body approve of me?”
I was surprised by the question and a tiny ruffle in his expression that suggested my validation was important. I couldn’t fathom anything more because he hid his feelings well.
“Is my approval important?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I respect you, Amy.”
“After a few days?”
“It’s been weeks since I began researching you.”
“Among others, yes.”
“But it was mostly about you for the past two weeks before we met.”
“Do you like the idea of me, Victor?”
“You’re toying with me?”
“Yes, sorry. It’s more flirty than I expected to feel.”
He caught me fishing for his feelings in a vague ocean of emotional turmoil. I needed something to cling to and couldn’t understand whether that was an erosion of my independence, a new need to make friends or insecurity.