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A whirlwind was a column of air that moved around rapidly in a cone shape. The whole moment had been the very definition of a whirlwind. Amelia had been yelling at him, he'd promised to tell her the truth and then she kissed him.

It had taken a moment, but Joshua's mind and mouth had been taken over. The smell of her sweet, apple-scented perfume had filled his nose, the taste of her sweet, smooth lips against his.

All he could hear was the drumming of his heart and the breaths each of them took in a fumbling, hurried manner. He pushed her gently against the wall; he needed to feel her closer. Her leg hitched up around his waist.

The connection between them was going wild; he could feel her excitement, her arousal, her guilt, and her near regret. As their bodies pressed together, he was certain she could feel his arousal against her plus his excitement and relief in his veins.

Her lips felt smooth as he kissed them, he could taste the sweetness of her lip balm as his tongue passed through her mouth. She returned the favour as her hand tangled in his hair.

His heart thumped harder as his right hand grabbed her thigh, squeezing the skin through her black tights.

The tether between them was driving him crazy: attraction, lust, confusion, regret, shame all ran through them both as thick as sugary, sweet honey. On his part, there was no shame or regret, but he could feel her attempt at stopping herself because of her fiancé. But she couldn't stop either; she was the one that made that first move.

Joshua lifted her, one hand on each of her thighs, and he placed her on the desk. Their eyes met for a single second.

The whirlwind stopped for a moment as he caught his breath. His lips buzzed from the exercise; he licked the lip-gloss off his lips. He wasn't quite sure whether it was vanilla or cocoa or a mix of the two, but it was now his favourite flavour.

"I—" She stopped.

He didn't answer, but he could feel her words zooming into his brain: we shouldn't be doing this. I need it again. It was almost as if she were saying it out loud.

He stood between her legs, stared into her velvety eyes. They reminded him of October; crisp days, long coffees, beautiful frost, warm enough to wear a jumper but not cold enough to shiver. Beauty everywhere you looked.

"Joshua?" she whispered against his lips.

He quietened her with a lengthened peck.

She responded with her tongue. The sparks flew and caught alight. It was as if they couldn't stop. He absolutely didn't want to; he wanted to drink her in every single way he could. He wanted to touch every part of her body and get to know every line and crevice, every contour and inch until he could draw her from his mind, and it would be a masterpiece. She was worthy of so much more, he knew, because he wasn't an artist, but as he kissed her, he felt like he could do anything and be anything. She made him soar.

She was his Fated, and this was where he needed to stay.

Her hands began fumbling under his shirt. She had long nails that lightly traced his skin. Shudders sang out like a choir across his skin.

In response, his hands inched up her thighs, and he felt her melt under his touch. He refused to go further. He'd only just gained her trust back.

"Joshua, stop."

He watched her; the spell was interrupted, broken. He removed his hands from her and stood back. He didn't want to push her further than she was comfortable with.

His veins swam with instant regret, instant shame.

"Amelia—"

"I shouldn't have done that," she whispered. "Oh, fuck, what have I—"

"Amelia, it's fine. No one will—"

"I'm engaged. To my Fated One, but that... I couldn't stop myself, almost like I had no control. But I just... I just cheated on Owen! What have I done? You're my teacher—"

He sighed. He couldn't tell her that technically it wasn't like that. If he did, he risked others hearing. He would still tell her, but only her.

"I need to go," she exclaimed. She stood from the desk and straightened herself out, but he knew without even looking that she was still aroused and fought an invisible battle inside herself.

"Amelia, I'm sorry," he whispered.

"We cannot do this again, no way. This is over—"

"We didn't have anything—"

"Joshua, never—" She stopped herself because they both knew what was going to come out of her mouth, and they both knew it would've been pointless.

She was going to tell him not to go near her again when they both knew that was impossible. They had a connection, chemistry, sparks, and they could not stay away. They were magnets. If they so much as went near each other's magnetic field, they would be pulled together regardless of what they tried to do to stop it.

She didn't want to kiss him when she did, but she couldn't stop it. Then they both realised the chemistry they shared. They were Fated; it wasn't their fault, technically.

"I'll... see you tomorrow. I still deserve the truth," she whispered. "But never, ever do that again. Nor will I."

He nodded, despite the unspoken knowledge that flowed between them: they both wanted that again. If anything came from that moment it was that he was more in love with her than he was before the kiss. If that was at all humanly possible.

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It was midnight. He'd felt a range of emotions from her since she fled five hours ago: regret, shame, happiness, confusion. He knew she didn't know how to process what had happened, and it worried him. He'd promised to tell her the truth the next day, but he was concerned it would push her away more than anything else.

He could imagine her scoff if he told her the truth about Drifting, he could imagine her sweet, angelic laugh despite the mocking tone it would embellish. But he knew he had no other choice; she was right, she deserved the truth. He wanted to confide in her, he wanted her to know that the Joshua she loathed wasn't him. He wanted to tell her that it was torture being there when he wanted to be near her, that he was in love with her, that he Declared and would do over and over if he hadn't made that one work.

If he'd pushed her away by kissing her back, there was nothing he could do but hope the truth would bring her back towards him.

He touched his Knot ever so slightly. He didn't want to push her, because just like a whirlwind, he knew you needed to take a break afterwards to recover. But he also had to feel her in that way and be connected. The compulsion took over, and he likened it to a drug addict needing their next fix: they would do anything and everything in their power to get it and wouldn't stop.

She returned the favour within seconds. His skin sang, his nerves vibrated, the comfort of knowing she was thinking about him made him sigh with relief.

When it was over, his phone buzzed.

'Where are we meeting and when, tomorrow? I need the truth from you.' Amelia's message read.

He thought she was mad at him, but he didn't feel anger. He felt the confusion and guilt from her. The denial was there as well, but they both felt the connection, stronger than ever. It was like an itch that you need to satisfy otherwise it'll just get worse and worse until the sensation took over the whole body.

He sent her his address before adding: 'Tomorrow at eleven? I'm not teaching tomorrow, so I have all day.'

He wanted to add so much more: an I love you, or a kiss, or even as bold as to ask her to meet him for another make-out session, but he knew he couldn't. They may have been Fated, but she wasn't his. She might have kissed him first, but he knowingly kissed an engaged woman, and Fated or not, he was morally wrong. Until she told him he could do it again, he had to keep his hands to himself, but that was going to be hard.

Now he'd had a taste, he didn't want to give it up. Some people became addicted to chocolate; Joshua had become addicted to Amelia Nichol's lips, and he'd only tasted them once.

Her reply came through. 'Sure, I'll be there. For what it's worth, I'm sorry for what I did. I wasn't thinking. I couldn't help it, I don't know, it's like something was forcing me to do it.'

He sighed. He could tell that was the truth, but he could also tell she was saying that to save face. Her emotions told him that she didn't regret it wholly.

'I understand, but you don't need to be sorry. See you tomorrow.' His reply was short, but he got across what he needed to.

He found the notes from That Joshua when he went to bed a little later. He felt familiar, though the bedroom wasn't his choice, it was That Joshua's with the bland walls and the blue sheets on the bed against the opposite wall. It was home because this was where he wanted to be.

There weren't many notes this time, but he read them all:

'I hate it here. I found out shit about Declaring back in your world, and something about a mirror and saying this is where you wanna stay. I tried doing it here, saying I wanna stay in your world. I'll do it next time I'm in your world as well, you should do it here.'

'Amelia is... definitely onto us. Like, she appeared with a bunch of food and coffee. I think she knows something's up. I've really been trying to remain, like, indifferent. I hope I haven't done anything wrong, man.'

'If you're gonna stay here, I'd probably look at getting a new job. You've done good, but yeah, like not trying to be rude, it's clear you're not qualified back home.'

The one about Amelia was what got him. She turned up, and he assumed she'd taken the coffee and popcorn they'd discussed a few days previously. It made him smile; she'd been thinking about him. But that was obviously what she was pissed off about when she saw him earlier.

He understood how confusing that must've been. He was nervous about telling her the next day, but he knew he needed to. He felt her drift into sleep, and he laid back, knowing this was where he belonged. He just hoped the Declaration worked.

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He set the pot of tea on the table, along with the lemon cheesecake slices. He'd gone out and bought a camellia plant to put in the middle of the table for her – everything she loved. He just wished he was one of those things.

All good things come to those who waited, he supposed.

The doorbell finally went off. He didn't have time to check himself in the mirror, but he'd picked out an off-white shirt, black jeans and a grey jumper. He didn't want to go overboard, but he knew she loved the colour white, so it worked.

When he opened the door, his heart pounded. She was wearing waist high light blue jeans and a white blouse that flowed out. It accentuated her in all the right places – which to Joshua was everywhere – and although her chest was fully covered by the blouse, the material made it more alluring than he remembered it last night.

"Amelia," he greeted when he realised that she would absolutely be sensing his attraction.

"Hey," she whispered, and walked past him into the house when he let her in.

"I've made tea, in the kitchen," he said and gestured her through.

"Do you, uh, want me to take my shoes off?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, no, it's fine."

The whirlwind had started in his heart; quick, shocking movements that made him almost breathless. He could smell that apple perfume, he could hear her bracelets as they made jangling noises as she walked, he could sense her nerves as she walked into the kitchen after him.

"You didn't need to do this," she said when she looked at the display in front of her. "Thank you."

He smiled and sat opposite her, his coffee in hand. "I heard you turned up with a caramel latte and popcorn yesterday."

She looked into her lap and the anger could be felt just a little. "I did."

"This is my way of making it up to you," he admitted.

She finally met his gaze through her eyelashes. "What's going on?"

He sighed and sipped his coffee. "When I tell you, you won't believe me, Amelia, but I—"

"Joshua, you forget I can feel you; I can sense pretty much everything. You told me weird little bits and I could sense you were telling the truth. I will believe you," she cut him off.

Well, she had a point there, he knew.

"There's no easy way of explaining this. But... I'm what they call a Drifter," he announced. He decided it was better to be upfront about it.

"Okay, and what does that mean?" she asked. She made herself a cup of tea. He noted how cute she looked as she did it; she sat up completely straight, it was clear it was a little heavy for her, but she did it anyway, and her tongue poked out just a little bit. When the pot went back on the table with a little thump, he carried on.

"It means there are multiple universes in this world, and I technically was born in another one. The best way to explain it is that we are Fated, and this was the world I should've been born into, but I wasn't. The Joshua you saw yesterday, he was born here. He's your real lecturer, he has the qualifications, but I was meant to be born here to be Fated with you."

She gulped her tea and put the cup down on the table.

The opposite of a whirlwind was to be slow, sluggish. She represented the very fabric of slowness as she took in his words. He hadn't scratched the surface of it, but he'd given her the basics.

She stared at him the whole time, and he'd counted thirty seconds before she opened her mouth.

"So, you're not really Joshua Anderson, then?" she whispered.

"I am, yes, I'm the same person, just from another universe. Like, I guess, a parallel universe is the best way to describe it," he answered.

She nodded again and took it in. "So... why can't you stay here?"

"That's the point of Drifting. I don't know much about it, but the Joshua who teaches you—"

"The one I hate, you mean? The one who failed my work?"

"Yes, he and I were born in the wrong universes, and we Drift until we decide to stay in one world. We've, luckily, picked each other's universes. This is my home, we made what is called a Declaration, but we don't know when or how it works, one day we'll just stop... travelling. But we don't know how or when that'll work. But for now, I'm back, and hopefully, that'll be it. But I could just wake up one day back there," he explained.

"You only got back when you texted me last night?"

He nodded. "Yes, I couldn't tell you then because I'm not supposed to tell people. It's safer if I tell you here, in private. You cannot tell anyone."

"And the other Joshua, he... he's not Fated to me. I felt nothing yesterday. That's why I couldn't feel anything but when we touched Knots?" she asked.

"I assume so. I don't know why, but yes, I was in the other world," he told her.

She was silent again. She sipped her tea slowly.

He felt a level of confusion within her. He knew it was going to happen. But he felt a sense of... peace. That confused him.

"I believe you."

The peace flowed between them like a whirlwind.

"But I want to know everything," she added.

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