It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single woman must be in want of a graduate degree
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There, between two women Lizzie recognized from Gothic Horror last semester was Darcy, stiffly setting out his laptop, notebook and pens. As if he felt the weight of her gaze on him, he looked up suddenly. For a moment the rest of the class seemed to fall away. There was only Darcy, and those infuriating brown eyes staring back at her. Her cheeks felt faintly hot. Someone coughed, some pages were rustled, keyboards tapped, and Darcy abruptly turned back to his books.
Lizzie adjusted the strap of her bag, and set her chin, frowning.
This was going to be an interesting semester.
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or: a grad student modern AUSeries
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The cellist turned, and that turning revealed the black ink etched into the skin of her arm, and Georgie suddenly needed to know what was drawn there, needed to know like she had never needed to know anything before.
And all she could think was—
Her brother telling her,
“I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
I’m going to ask her to marry me.
—Georgiana Darcy has a crush.
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