My company sent me to Berlin five months ago and I’ve been having these weekly sessions with Giselle for the past fifteen weeks. That’s a lot of hours spent gazing into the impossible blue of her eyes. If only I could pick up German by doing that.
“Watch the news on ZDF,” Giselle says in impeccable English. I’m sure she does it to taunt me. I bet she’s a genius who speaks at least seven languages with no sign of a native accent.
“And address people in German this week. Don’t worry about making mistakes.”
“Sure.” I bury my books in my backpack with no intention of digging them up before next week’s session. Giselle has told me many times that German is not a language you can learn without memorising vocabulary, articles, and the dreaded verb cases, but does she honestly believe I have nothing better to do?
“Any wild plans this weekend?” She takes off her thick-framed glasses with those long-fingered hands and I can feel my heart skip a beat before it starts thundering in my chest. It doesn’t matter that those hands have pointed out countless mistakes and have, occasionally, slapped the desk in frustration with my apparent German learning disability. If Giselle wasn’t my teacher, she’d be perfect. Apart from her hands, they’re perfect already, regardless of our relationship.
“Just the usual speaking your fair language to everyone I encounter and maybe a few drinks in between.” I grab my leather jacket from the back of the chair and sling it over my shoulder. I need to get out of here before I lose my cool completely. I can feel it slipping away as I skim her freckled face for a sign of a smile. She shoots me a small one at last. One that says—I know you want to fuck me, but you’ll have to learn German first.
Want more Hump Day goodness? Head over to the official site >>