He looked so innocent reading his book, almost peaceful. I stopped in the frame, admiring his face. His brows were pulled together in a concentrated manner. His jaw was defined, leading up to his musculine body. I couldn't take my eyes from him unti...
The days until the next lecture with professor Cullen went by in a blink, but at the same time, they were the longest days of my life. I missed his presence. His eyes. Just him.
Now that the day had finally arrived, I walked into the big lecture room nervous but also excited. I didn't know what I had anticipated but as the door was being opened, a relieved sigh escaped my lips. When Professor Cullen entered the room, I couldn't help but check him out. I could see the muscles of his torso under his shirt and quickly looked away to focus on his face. But to my surprise, I didn't find the calmness that I had seen on our coffee meeting. He seemed tense, almost angry as he put a stack of papers on his desk. His face was tense, his brows slightly furrowed in annoyance. But why? Looking at the papers on his desk, I swallowed. From my chair I could see that his red notes were all over them. Fuck.
"Alright, now let's start. If you remember you had to write essays about a poem. This was quite a doable task in my mind, but to my surprise and also to my frustration, almost everyone handed in some piece of shit", he started.
It took me a moment to realise what he just said but as I did, I was in shock. I've not seen him so angry and strict yet. He normally didn't even curse. He began going through every row to give back the papers. It seemed as if he just carelessly threw the essays on each students' desk without even looking at them.
But when he reached me, he softly placed it directly in front of me and quietly, so that only I can understand him, murmured: "Brilliant". I felt goose bumps all over my body at the tone of his voice. For some reason it made me proud. I wanted to impress him., wanting his respect. I then noticed a sticky note attached to it. The writing was beautiful. It contained a phone number and the words:
Dear Miss White,
Please call me if you are free to start working on the poetry tasks. - A.C.
A.C.? I wondered what his first name was... And was this his private number? No, it had to be for his work. That was at least what I tried to tell myself. But at the same time, I was hoping for the former. Why? I didn't know. I didn't want to know. I had a small clue but I didn't want to think about it in any more detail as it would have quickly went into a direction that was...how should I describe this? Inappropriate. Unprofessional. Unrealistic.
But then, my thoughts got suddenly interrupted by Stacey Morrison's high voice:
"Professor Cullen, I'm sorry to say that but for me it was quite a difficult task you know. I tried my best but if you could give me some advice on how to do better, I'd be more than grateful", she gave him her best smile and a wink. I sighed annoyed and rolled my eyes. Couldn't she make it more obvious? She always tried to play out the 'sexy card' to wrap each male around her finger, even professors. And the worst was that it usually worked. But to my and everyone else's surprise he replied rather harshly:
"Well, I'm sorry to say that Miss Morrison but if you want better grades you need to work a lot harder."
I couldn't hold the smirk back as I saw her frustrated face. Well, she deserved it.
"What do you mean by working harder, sir?", someone else asked.
"Don't simply stay on the surface", he said and his gaze met mine for a second. I gave him a small smile, remembering that that's exactly what I said about him in the coffee shop. However, his eyes move on so fast, I asked myself if my mind just imagined it.
"Think and feel and don't just copy some crap about a poem out of the internet. That's not how it works. Now let's just hear an example of someone who did a good job at the task. Is anyone willing to present his or her work, otherwise I choose one."
That caught my attention and made me tense in my seat.
Of course, no one wanted to and I immediately started to panic. He would choose me, I knew it! Shit, why couldn't just someone else raise their hand? I had put all my deepest thoughts and emotions into this work. I couldn't present it in front of everyone!
"No one?", he asked firmly.
Looking up, I saw that he was looking at me. "Please don't pick me", I thought. I kept my eyes on his, even though it was difficult because they held something predatory. But I did and slightly shook my head no. It seemed as if he would give me a small smile and an understanding nod. His eyes however still had something longing as if he would be hungry to hear my thoughts or my voice or...maybe I was totally wrong. He then broke the eye contact and looked at someone behind me: "What about you Miss Clarke? Your essay was just decent but that's at least better than nothing."
I breathed out, realising that I had been holding my breath the entire time. I was so relieved that I didn't pay much more attention and when it was lunch time, I quickly bursted out of the door. Away from him, away from myself. Away from whatever was between us.
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------------------------------------- It's done! Chapter 5 I hope you like the story so far :) Please feel free to comment so that I now what you like/don't like..it would brighten my day ! - Ann
