I was used to the intimate looks Artemis shot me in glances; the expression in her eyes saved for me only. And yet I absorbed her eye contact hungrily, as the teasing nature of it made me will the minutes to drop off the clock dial faster with each steady infuriatingly slow rotation. The two hours we were naked, baring all and yet sharing ourselves as if we were alone, would always be glorious torture. I revelled in it because I knew I was hers only. When we got dressed each night at 7pm, ready for the bus journey home, I would envisage tearing off those perfectly arranged clothes so that they would show me the beautiful curves other hands had sketched.