“Break time?” he asks, setting one of the books aside.
I glance at the clock, weighing my options. “Lunch break, please. I’m starving.”
“Takeout, or do you want to go to a restaurant?”
“Order in. I’d rather not waste time stuck in traffic.”
Dante pulls me onto his lap when I get up to make another coffee. “You’ll be writing all day and entertaining Julij all evening. When will you have time for me?”
“I’m not supposed to be here at all today.”
“But you are. I won’t see you tonight.” He grips my hips, caressing me softly. “I need to make the most of our time now.”
It’s nearly impossible to object when he watches me as if nothing else matters. “Okay, let me write until the food gets here, and then... yeah, what then?”
“We’re watching a movie.”
“You want me to ditch my dissertation to watch a movie?”
“And, so I can kiss you.”
I drape my hands over his neck. “Only if you hug me too.”
He lets me get back to work while he reads“Artistry of the mentally ill”by Hans Prinzhorn. “What are you writing that dissertation about?” he asks half an hour later, setting a pizza box on the table.
“Enjoying the book, are you? I’m writing about the links between genius and mental illnesses or rather, I’m trying to prove a theory.”
“You’re trying to prove that geniuses suffer from mental illness more often than ordinary people?
I shake my head, swallowing a bite of pizza. “I’m trying to prove that genius is a form of mental illness. I read a quote once: “We’re all crazy, but people who can analyze the craziness are philosophers.” Following the lead, I found another quote by the same author.” I point to “Genius and Insanity” by Lombroso Cesare, “In which he states genius is one of many forms of mental illness. The idea got me hooked.”
“Pretty and smart... you need to start messing up, Layla. You don’t have nearly enough flaws.”
“I snore,” I admit, taking another bite. “I’m clumsy, lazy, and cruel, but you think that’s positive, just like my sassiness, innocence, and emotional instability.”
“I considered the last one a flaw at first, but now I like that you need attention because I like it when you need me.”
“Give it time. You can’t see my flaws yet, but once the blindfold’s off, you’ll see many things that’ll drive you insane.”
That’s unavoidable. During the first phase of every relationship, our bodies are ruled by endorphins, hearts skip a few beats, and legs grow weak at the sight of our crush.
The other half is always perfect at first. It takes a few weeks to notice the small, annoying things once the excitement wears off, but feelings are more important than the fact the other half won’t take their cup back to the sink or can’t fold a sweater.
I have flaws like everyone, but Dante doesn’t see them yet, just as I don’t see his. He’s my winning lottery ticket. My dream-come-true. The best thing to ever happen to me and the worst decision I ever made...
“Back to your dissertation. You’re writing about genius being a mental illness. Have you done any research, or are you basing everything solely on literature?”
“Are you asking if I’ve had a chance to talk to a genius? Unfortunately, no. I’m roaming through hundreds of books, trying to piece together something new.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if you included a new example?”
“Of course, it would, but I don’t know any geniuses.”
“I do. Quite a few.”
My lips form one line. “Define genius.”
“It means a highly intelligent person or one with remarkable skill in a particular area of activity.”