Not one to be encumbered by my growing list of not-so-private crushes, I add another Mr Darcy to the fold.
He sits by himself. Too cool to care. Brooding and reserved but for the moments of smirking that arise with unusual legal questions. He responds to intellectual art. How wonderful.
I don’t know his name. I don’t really want to know his name. Knowledge kills fantasy.
In my mind I’ve already named him something appropriately tuneful to the ears. Something that could easily roll of the tongue over a coffee, or dinner, or a mid-evening stroll. Imagining a multitude of potential Austin-esque moments in daily intersections or unexpected encounters; holding the door ajar to follow his uplifting entrance, shy retreats from glances directed from across the room, seeing his face through a gap between library books on a shelf.
Developing my own characterisation of material facts to produce a favourable case outcome.
It makes the day go faster. Overheads with one eye. Quick side glances with another. Careful not to stare too long as to avoid attracting attention to my lack of attention on class matters.
Five years in this place and yet there is still fascination in its mysteries. There are too many beautiful people in this world for me to concentrate in law classes.
Sigh.