He backed away, climbing the stadium seats to whichever spot he'd claimed. I assumed he'd be sitting in one of the back rows. His preference would be to try to stay out of the way of the general class. And, from the length of time it took him to climb, my suspicion was confirmed. Using my cane, I located the rest of what had fallen. I could check again after work. The papers were all to help Shiloh get caught up on my research anyway.
With my belongings back intact and after a sip of coffee, I turned to the students. "Let's get started. Who can remind the class of the most common nesting habits spoken about in the paper?"
In the first few days of every class, getting conversations started was always a little difficult. The students couldn't raise their hands, but I didn't want to have a conversation that way anyway. They could speak when they had an answer, and if more than one student spoke at once, I trusted them as adults to decide who would continue.
We were a few weeks in, though, so Ms. Burgess said, "Many shifters were seen to increase shopping habits. The study posited that this is a replacement behavior that mimics a bird's natural instinct to construct a nest. Though bird shifters don't do the same with sticks, mud, and hay, but with things. Linens are a common item that is overpurchased. As are kitchen utensils."
"Very good. What can we take away from this? What conclusions can we draw?"
As the conversation continued, at times entirely without my input, I checked in on Shiloh in the only way I could. I listened for his heart, noting it had slowed down some. His breaths were even. Was he reading? Or paying attention to the lecture? It would have worked just as well to have Shiloh meet me after class, but I'd wanted him here, not only to relieve my worry but because I thought he'd enjoy the conversation.
But I hadn't counted on my amazing entrance. I hoped he didn't feel too hurt, though it was useless to hope he wasn't embarrassed. He surely was. I knew enough about Shiloh to assume that with confidence.
Conversation continued until the end of class when I had to cut in to remind everyone it was time to move on. They packed up slowly, continuing to discuss nesting habits. "Read the case study of Mr. Spinner, an Eratigena agrestis, more commonly known as a hobo spider. There have been numerous studies done on differences in personality between the classes of shifter, but Mr. Spinner's case specifically focuses on the tendency for shifters whose animals are considered in the normie world as scary or undesirable and the effect that has on a shifter's confidence," I said loudly over the din of voices.
Eventually, the students cleared out. I waved and said goodbye, meeting the usual flock who needed to speak to me despite the fact that it wasn't my office hours and we'd just spent the last hour and a half in discussion. Those questions were answered as well, and about ten minutes later, the only two left in the lecture hall were Shiloh and me.
"Mr. Formes, are you still speaking to me?" I asked, smirking to let him know I wasn't angry.
But maybe he was.
When he didn't immediately reply, I swept my cane around toward the stadium-style seating and began climbing up to him.
"No, you don't have to. I'll come to you," Shiloh hurried to offer.
"Stay," I ordered with a frown, hearing the weight of Shiloh's things settle once more where they were. I sighed. "I can climb these stairs to you, Mr. Formes. Just like how I can collect my own things when I drop them." I felt for an open seat next to him and sat down.
Shiloh was silent. This wasn't how I thought our first face-to-face conversation would go. I'd convinced myself the day earlier that I'd needed to text Shiloh to relay when and where his position would start. Maybe that had been true, but I had no academic-related excuse for the rest of our conversation. And yet I could've continued texting him all night.
"Today is our first day working together, Mr. Formes. We need to start it at least on speaking terms." At this point, the need to hear his voice again had grown severe.
Shiloh mumbled something I didn't catch. There was nothing wrong with my hearing. He'd simply spoken with his lips too close together for me to decipher his words.
"Once more, clearly," I said.
"I was just trying to help," he said quietly but with an edge of injustice. He was upset.
"My issue isn't with you wanting to help, Shiloh. It's with you not listening to my request. I'm blind, but I'm not helpless. Sometimes I will need help, but when I do, I will ask for it."
"But your things were everywhere! And the other students were laughing," he cried out.
"They laughed because I tripped and dropped my things. Schadenfreude is the act of—"
"It's when a person enjoys another person's misfortune," Shiloh cut in. "I know what it is."
I pressed my lips together. We'd have to discuss how rude it was to interrupt at a later time. "Yes. And that is why they were laughing. But you assumed it had to do with my blindness, didn't you?"
Shiloh was quiet.
"You assumed since I was blind and dropped my things that I would need help to pick them all back up. You hurt me more than any of the student's laughter because you assumed my vulnerability. I'm blind. Not helpless."
Shiloh made a soft, shocked sound. "I wasn't trying to hurt you."
"I know. And in this case, hurt is perhaps too strong of a word. This will take some time, but as long as you are willing to listen and accept my direction, we're going to be fine." I believed that. Though this exact situation was one of the reasons why I mostly worked alone. It was easier that way, and the time that would've been spent learning to work together could have been spent on doing the work. But everything was different with Shiloh, and this was no exception. "I also don't think we need to discuss this matter into the ground. Before we transition, do you have any questions?"
"About the research?" he asked.
"No, about me, specifically about my blindness." I waited, wondering if he was the type to pretend he wasn't curious, or if he would—
"Are you totally blind?" Shiloh asked.
I smiled. "I can see changes in light, but that's about it."
"Why don't you use a seeing-eye dog?"
Though less common in the shifter world, I was asked that question a lot when I was younger and going through schooling. "I've been working on my independence since I was an infant in O&M—I'm sorry, Orientation and Mobility classes. My omega father blamed himself for my condition and wanted to protect me by keeping me from the outside world, but my alpha father was determined that I would become as independent as possible. He encouraged me to do as much on my own as I could while growing up. And that has continued throughout the years. Now, I have different tools to help me get around." I pictured the two of us sitting side by side in the large lecture hall. There wasn't another class in here for thirty minutes.
Shiloh's body heat clung to me, pulling me deeper under the spell he wasn't even trying to cast. I loved how quickly he launched into questions, like he'd been wondering about me for a while. That meant he'd thought of me when we'd been apart.
What is it about this person that makes me suddenly act like a love-stricken adolescent?