Chapter 11

After our disagreement in his office, I decided to eat dinner in my own room. I hadn't felt like any company. Instead, I spent most of the day to myself, simply just reloading my mental energy and going over what he had said in the study.

Was it really as simple as he said?

That all I had to do was choose how much focus I was going to put into my emotions and that would be that? Maybe it could work to some extent, but I stood by my own words as well; Eventually it would all pile up, all the un-dealt-with emotions. I also couldn't help but feel if my emotions were the sacrifice I had to make for moving up in the world... I wasn't so sure I wanted to move that much up.

Harry was a brilliant man, there was no doubt about it.

He had achieved a lot in his 32 years, but he had also vastly spent the majority of those years inside and in isolation. That was also indisputable. He might've been the smartest person on earth when it came to math, but when it came to emotions, I wasn't so sure he was the best to take advice from.

Granted, I didn't know enough about his personal life to make that decision yet, but until I did, I wouldn't be sure about taking advice from someone who had had no public relationships according to the world.

I knew he was a private guy... but did his privacy come because of natural causes, or as a highly selective participation in society?

The talk in his study had given me a lot to think about, but for the sake of being interested in my future, I tried his advice; I tried as much as I could to push it all aside for the day and focus on my studies, and right up until after dinner, it actually worked.

The only reason why it stopped working was because there suddenly came a knock on my door.

I was sitting in my bed, almost ready to call it a day since the clock showed 10:45pm, when I heard a knuckle tap against the door to my room. I frowned a little and lowered my book, but nonetheless called 'come in' when I recognized the knock. It still didn't dull the surprise when I saw him enter my room, closing the door softly behind him. I never would've thought he would be the one to crack first.

I slowly closed my book when I saw him turn in the light from my bedside lamp, which was the only light still on. I had been reading a little before bed like I always did, but suddenly I had a feeling I wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon.

"Hey," I said, seeing him pocket his hands and walk a little closer towards me.

He looked ever his calm self, yet... thoughtful right now. I watched him carefully as he stopped a few feet from the foot of my bed.

"You didn't come down to dinner tonight," He then said.

I raised a surprised brow.

That's how he was starting?

"I didn't think you'd notice," I replied, laying my book away on my bedside table and then folded my hands.

"What's with being busy with your work and all that."

A muscle in his jaw ticked, but other than that, he didn't move. He instead shifted his gaze towards my window where the drapes were closed for the night.

"I know I can be rude," He then started, causing me to raise both my brows this time. That was an understated confession.

"And I make no apologies or excuses for it. When I said I was disappointed in you, I meant it."

I pursed my lips ever so slightly, but didn't show any other affections than that.

"I think you made that perfectly clear."

"I don't believe I made it clear why that was, though," He finally said.

He turned his eyes towards me, catching my gaze. Pressing my lips together, I then gestured for him to continue with a tilt of my head.

"Do elaborate, then." Although I wasn't so sure I wanted to know the specific ways I had disappointed him.

Lowering his head, he glanced at his shoes before straightening his back and staring towards my window again.

"I don't tutor, Cassandra."

I frowned.

That was another weird way of starting.

"I know?"

"Do you know why don't tutor?"

I thought for a second, but then shook my head lightly.

"No."

"I don't tutor, because I can't stand the youth of today," He replied, which was probably the last answer I had expected.

.My guesses had been more along the line of a social phobia or something like that, but never to such a degree.

"That sounds harsh, but it's the honest truth. I don't like today's youth and what it's becoming."

Okaaaay, I thought.

So he didn't like the youth.

What did that have to do with him being disappointed in me?

"I stay within the confines of my house because I believe the stupidity of the youth's ways pollutes the mind," He continued unaffectedly, starting to pace back in forth in front of my bed.

"Social media, all of their new toys, trends and gadgets. Even their language leaves me questioning whether or not I should switch to astronomy, just so I might find another habitable planet with higher hopes to prosper." I pressed my lips together not to smile.

He sounded like an old, bitter man, but he was only 32. Furthermore, I think he just actually made a real joke for the first time in his life. Or at least the first joke I had ever heard whilst staying here.

"Alright, so you don't like us young people," I clarified before he went off into a full hate-spiral on all us youthful people.

"I think I've got that."

"I don't want to waste my time on them," He explained, simply.

He met my eyes again, deep and still thoughtful.

"The main priority of the youth today is to party, drink, have kids while they're still kids themselves, and gossip about pointless things. They don't prioritize the development of their minds anymore. And while there might be exceptions, I simply won't bother spending my time searching through a sea to find a single individual."

I was waiting for his point.

I knew it was coming up soon, so I stayed resilient.

"Well, that's your decision."

He pursed his lips. Then, turning his eyes to the window again, he took a short moment before he continued.

"When my brother started this whole scam, I knew right from the start. The moment you showed up at my door, I was prepared to turn you down and prove my theory as to why kids in this world are a lost cause. I wasn't going to have any, and I wasn't going to bother tutoring any."

I crossed my arms and waited.

I watched as Harry now unfurled his hands from his pockets and turned towards me. He leaned up against the pillar to my bed and surprised me by giving me a little smile.

"But strangely, you were the odd exception, Cassandra. Before you had even come to my door, I knew everything about you, and I believe that was the exact reason why my brother chose you as well. You weren't one of the others."

I felt my brows lift.

I wasn't quite sure, but.. I think he just complimented me?

"Thank you.."

His lips twitched again. "After a while of observing you and testing how you responded as a person to being lectured, I saw that you were a genuinely decent person with a bright future ahead, if nourished correctly. I still have no intentions of tutoring you, but as far as I can see, you won't need it if you get shown the right path. At least that's what I thought until last night."

So now we were getting to the point.

I waited while he pushed himself off the pillar to say what I could already tell myself.

"I misjudged you," He said.

"I believed you to be an exception of a person your age and environment, but last night you proved me wrong. I was disappointed, not because you handled your problems with alcohol, but by the way you let your problems bring you down to such a degree. You were demoting and insulting your own bright self by letting something as simple as motherly love bring you down.”

My eyes widened. "How did you-"

"I understood your alcoholic metaphor and pieced the puzzle together," He dismissed with a hand-wave, like it was as simple as 1+1.

Maybe it was.

He was a twice-certified genius, after all.

"I got angry because you have so much potential, but if you allow such simple things to disrupt you that much, then that jeopardizes your chances of expediting your potential to the fullest."

I closed my mouth when I realized I had opened it ever so slightly. Not out of shock or surprise, but simply out of speechlessness.

It was like he never reacted the way someone should react. It was never as simple getting mad for a superficial act. It was always deeper. For a person who proclaimed he didn't allow distractions, he certainly used a lot of time thinking about things that seemed like they didn't need that much thinking.

But in a way, I was glad he did.

"I can be rude, but I am not a cold person," He repeated.

"I don't let emotions take control of me, and maybe that's considered a weakness in certain situations, but I do feel. Contrary to what I show," He said, looking at me with a little smile.

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and sat up in my bed a bit more. I knew he felt. I had just considered his ability to show empathy to be slightly handicapped.

And maybe it still was.