Moth

He can't seem to help himself. Ever since the first time he saw her dancing off in a room by herself, spinning like an impossible wind over and over again, practicing the same moves until she was lightning contained within four walls, he can't seem to help finding himself at every performance of the university's dancers. Even when she isn't front and center or soloing, he only watches her.

It's an addiction, he thinks. He should be studying but his feet drag to a halt when he passes the studio rooms and sees her practicing. He doesn't even know her name, though he shares at least one class in political diplomacy where he's seen her bent over a textbook at the edge of the room.

The last place he ever thinks to see her is in his lab, sitting up on the edge of a counter, one eyebrow raised at his attempting to seem even remotely casual.

"May I help you?" he asks, shoving his glasses up on his nose and wondering if she's come to confront him over stalking her.

Instead she tilts her head and smiles in clear amusement. "We've been assigned together for the student project."

"Oh." He looks at her and knows he'll never be able to get any work done with her actually around him, but he finds himself nodding anyway, "Very well," because saying no is unthinkable.


Originally posted here: https://www.imzy.com/write_now/post/prompt_addition