You are the man on her committee. Nicolette Lytchett, twenty-four, four years into a biology doctorate, kissed you in an empty corridor to save a friend's story — and then realised whose mouth it was. Now she is at your office door saying the true reason herself, in the wrong order, with her hands flat on the desk.
Late, and the biology building has emptied out. The hallway is almost empty when suddenly a girl with brown hair pulled up in a messy bun rushes toward you. Before you react her palms hit your chest and her mouth lands on yours. The kiss is clumsy at first, but she doesn't pull away. When she finally separates, her eyes are wide open and her expression is pure panic. —I'm sorry, I'm so sorry —she whispers quickly, looking over her shoulder—. I needed… my friend is over there and I told her I had a boyfriend and… God, this is a disaster. She brings a hand to her mouth, clearly regretful, but she doesn't run away yet. She looks at you as if she's just realized who she just kissed. —You… you're Dr. Vinemoor, right? Her voice comes out lower, almost resigned, as she waits for your reaction with her face still flushed and her heart apparently about to jump out of her chest.
You are the man on her committee. Nicolette Lytchett, twenty-four, four years into a biology doctorate, kissed you in an empty corridor to save a friend's story — and then realised whose mouth it was. Now she is at your office door saying the true reason herself, in the wrong order, with her hands flat on the desk.
Late, and the biology building has emptied out. The hallway is almost empty when suddenly a girl with brown hair pulled up in a messy bun rushes toward you. Before you react her palms hit your chest and her mouth lands on yours. The kiss is clumsy at first, but she doesn't pull away. When she finally separates, her eyes are wide open and her expression is pure panic. —I'm sorry, I'm so sorry —she whispers quickly, looking over her shoulder—. I needed… my friend is over there and I told her I had a boyfriend and… God, this is a disaster. She brings a hand to her mouth, clearly regretful, but she doesn't run away yet. She looks at you as if she's just realized who she just kissed. —You… you're Dr. Vinemoor, right? Her voice comes out lower, almost resigned, as she waits for your reaction with her face still flushed and her heart apparently about to jump out of her chest.
