Obsession (18+)

Chapter One

I take a drag from the cigeratte, listening without a care to the incessant whining of the obviously morose misanthrope. As his eyes narrow, his thin lips pursing into a seemingly permanent frown, I flick off the end of the bud and toss the cancerstick to the pavement. After I've crushed it with my heel, the man in a suit much more expensive than my own gives me an angry smile that barely suppresses death threats.

"This is a school, Mr. Donte, which means that is a no smoking zone."

Even his voice pisses me off, wow.

"Alright," I clear my throat.

"Now that that's settled, I'll show you to your classroom."

"Alright," I repeat with a sigh.

As we make our way inside the red and brown brick building, I inhale sharply and taste the air of Louisiana. Though I've been here on vacation, I've never actually stayed that long. Without the foggiest idea why, I just woke up one night with the need to try something different. Whatever the fuck it was that possessed me to think becoming a music theory teacher, I have no fricking idea. I don't even know why they accepted me for the teaching position, I've never taught before and I'm certainly not going to college get to the proper credentials.

"You're slacking, Mr. Donte, so I would  advise you to hurry a little."

"Uh, yes sir," I groan and speed walk.

"So, how do you like the campus so far?" the principal asks, his gray hair swinging slightly as he peers at me over his gruff shoulder.

"It's fine," I reply.

Fine if you like the male students staring at you like they're planning where to bury you...

"Have you ever taught before today?"

"You already asked me in the interview."

"Lose the attitude or lose the job."

"No sir. I've never taught a day in my life," I sigh, hands in my pockets.

"What made you decide to start teaching?"

"I had the sudden urge, that's all I can truthfully say."

"You already know that sexual relationships with the students and staff is strictly prohibited, correct?"

"Correct," I grumble.

Like I'd seriously be into anyone who's clearly way too young for me? Maybe I would pull an Andy and find someone who just cheats on me nightly. Juliet Banks is no Juliet Capulet, thats for sure...The principal's voice jerks me away from my mental charade, pulling me back to the shabby classroom with walls the same blue as the twitter app. Today's going to be exceedinglylong.

"Have fun teaching music theory," Mr. Forry gives me that death threat smile again.

"Thank you, sir," I give him a friendly smile.

Once his back is turned, my smile becomes a sneer and I pop up my favorite finger. Laughter and shocked gasps alerts me that hey, the room isn't as empty as I expected. Turning to meet my first class ever, I gulp and square my shoulders. There are a few 'scene' kids in the back that are just bluntly staring at me, like I'm guest starring in their wettest daydreams ever. Two of them are young men and I send them one of Andy's signature smirks. I'm feeling sadistic today, possibly from the effort not to strangulate Mr. Forry, so these strapping youngsters best wish that I don't assign them detention.

"Sorry I'm late, my locker was stu-"

My head turns towards the beautiful sound, eyes locking into the brownest orbs that I've ever seen.

"It's alright. I haven't taken attendance yet. What's your name, miss?" I stride over to the desk and hope that what I feel twitching in my trousers isn't noticeable.

"Don't call me 'miss,' seeing as how I'm not a little girl," the tardy student hisses.

Confused, I turn around.

"Madame?" I offer.

"I'm single, so cut the crap. The previous teacher has a list of my title sets in front of my name on the attendance sheet."

With that, my obviously cranky student walks off towards a vacant desk in the center of the room. Searching around the cluttered desk and berating myself for my shitty impulses, I find a teal piece of paper and read it.

Queen Seraphina Leona?!

Well then....

"Seraphina?"

"Present," she lifts up her hand, smirking at me.

"Alright... I'll, um, mark you here," I sit on the desk, knocking over the fancy black computer that I'm probably going to have to pay to replace.

"Don't mark me on your desk, sir," Seraphina smiles, showing teeth.

The short blue hair frames her face perfectly, bringing out the depths of Seraphina's eyes. And that voice? Feminine as fuck. But, as I've already learned, feminine does not always equate to modest.  Seraphina's plush looking red lips are not helping at all, nor iss that sleek dress, my surprisingly overactive hormones.

I gulp again.

"Please reframe from that sort of comment," I mumble, discreetly adjusting myself.

Typically, I'm blunt enough to be borderline offensive. Right now? I feel like I'll burst into flames if I say or do something too... honestly, me.

Numbly, I read off the list of names and don't even bother to mark who's here or not.

As I make my way back to the front of the room, I turn my back to the students and write my name as I feel stares burning into my ass. Mentally reminding myself where I am and what I'm doing, I resist the insistent urge to pull out my pack of fags and light up. Gulping again, anger and frustration spiking in my violent veins, I begin to write the notes for today. From the back if the room, I can hear vile threats made against me as well as nearly terrifying musings. (And if your sexual fantasies can scare me, you've got batshit crazy issues...) There's no fucking way in anybody's version of Hell that I'm going to stand up here and introduce myself to a bunch of horny teenagers- or ones that make me horny. Well, one that makes me horny...

Libido, now is not the time....

All through class, Seraphina just sits there and smirks at me. If shee doesn't stop it, I'm going to throw her across the desk and fuck the shit out of that little pussy. And yes, Seraphina is little. She can't be much over 5'2'', if she is even that tall. That only adds to the innocent façade that is unassailably making me plot my next conquest.

I busy myself by opening up the thick leather bound textbook and reading it to the students, who are apparently from grades nine through twelve. It's when my nose is in the ten hundred pound book that a student, unbeknownst to me, decides to walk towards me. After awhile of holding my head down and being as hunched over as I am, my natural inclination is to stretch and relax my muscles- which leads to me very accidentally punching the poor lad directly in his tan face.

Horrified, I watch as he collapses against my desk before fumbling to the floor.

Ah shit....