He was her teacher; She was his student.
He wanted her; She wanted him.
It shouldn't be complicated.
But nothing's ever that easy.
*contains mature content; read at your own risk
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A loud knocking woke me up the next morning. It was hardly eight o'clock, and quite frankly, it pissed me off.
"Luke," I mumbled, nudging my still sleeping boyfriend. He grumbled something incoherently and pulled the blankets back up over his head like a toddler. He looked so cute and cuddly, but this was his house, so he needed to answer the door. I also didn't want to put pants on.
"Babe, there's somebody at the door, and they won't shut up."
He groaned loudly but eventually flung the covers off himself, reaching blindly for some sweatpants and a t-shirt and muttering something about wanting people to leave him the fuck alone. He was a dragon in the mornings.
He fumbled around, pulling the clothes on and walked out the door to where the incessant knocking was happening.
"I'm coming!" He yelled in hopes that the visitor would calm their tits.
They didn't.
I listened from the bedroom where I was still wrapped up half naked in the sheets.
Luke must have finally reached the door because I could now hear the voice of the visitor clear as day.
"Luke Hemmings?" A man said.
"Yes, sir," Luke confirmed. I could practically see the puzzled look that I'm sure was on his face.
"You're under arrest on the accusation of having sexual relations with your students."
Luke started to protest, but the officer silenced him by reading him the Miranda Rights and then telling him that they had a search warrant for the house and his classroom.
Panic coursed through my veins, and I scrambled to put on some clothes. I could hear the footsteps of the officers as they approached the bedroom. I wanted to run and hide inside the closet, but it would be futile to try. They would of course look there.
I sat on the bed and took a deep breath, pretending to look busy on my phone (which was actually dead) as the doorknob turned.
Two officers barged in, pausing when they saw me sitting there. I'm sure I was a sight to see. I hadn't looked in a mirror, but I knew my hair was wild— a combination of the sex last night and bed head. I hadn't had time to try and tame it with a pony tail yet. My makeup was surely smudged, and I didn't doubt that there was probably litters of purple hickeys along my neck. The t-shirt I was wearing was too big— it was Luke's— and the leggings I had thrown on had a hole in the knee. I looked like a wreck.
"State your name and relationship to Luke Hemmings," one of the officers commanded.
A part of me wanted to lie, but I had no idea if Luke planned on telling the truth. I didn't want to get him in even more trouble though, and I also didn't want to get in trouble, so I told the truth.
