Roseanne Cole clung to the man like a child holding onto a tree for dear life. In this moment, she was the koala, and Owen Reynolds was her sturdy eucalyptus.
"I'm so, so sorry, I didn't mean to— that dog scared the living daylights out of me..." she stammered, trying to find her footing and disentangle herself from him.
But—
His hands remained firmly on her waist, the warmth from his grip penetrating even the thickest layers of her winter coat, sending a rush of heat throughout her body.
A blush spread across Roseanne's cheeks, blooming into a deep crimson that even tinted the tips of her ears a delicate pink.
"Pro—Professor..." she managed, putting a bit more effort into her struggle.
Yet Owen's grip was unyielding, as if his hands were clamps locked around her.
"Scared?" Owen suddenly spoke, his voice a husky whisper.
It was unclear if he was referring to the dog or the current, rather intimate, predicament.
Roseanne nodded, "A bit."
Whether it was the dog or the man, she was indeed frightened.
"You're the one who jumped up, aren't you?" He pressed further.
Her cheeks flamed even hotter, as if they might start bleeding from the sheer embarrassment: "I'm sorry, I didn't think, I just... reacted."
It was fear, pure and simple. The dog had come barreling out of nowhere, and in the narrow stairwell, she had nowhere to hide. Standing still would have meant taking the full brunt of the animal's charge.
Despite the awkwardness, Roseanne felt no regret. Given another chance, she was sure she would make the same leap into Owen Reynolds' arms.
"Professor, could you... maybe let me down now?" She asked softly, not realizing how close her lips were to his ear. As she spoke, her breath, warm and lightly scented, brushed against his cheek and ear.
Owen stiffened, slowly moving her away from his body but not loosening his grip entirely, just enough to create some space between them.
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