the ultracheese (Alex Turner fluff one-shots)

the age of the understatement (part one)

You and Professor Turner have a heated debate about romance in Wuthering Heights in a lecture.

-

You were growing more and more tense, and that was an understatement.

"It's seen as one of the greatest love stories there is, if yeh consider novels from the same era in the literareh canon especialleh..."

You thought you were about to explode, your hands were almost shaking, you couldn't listen to any more. Before today, Professor Turner had been one of your favourite lecturers, he'd taught you more about English literature within half a semester than any teacher in school, and any other lecturer during your studies at university over the past two years, but now, as he stood in front of the class with what seemed like a growing enthusiasm for the absolute mess that Wuthering Heights was with each word he spoke to describe it, your high opinion of him was slowly starting to come crashing down.

The way he planned his lectures was perfect, they weren't dry because he wasn't just teaching theory, reading them from boring slides that would just be a pain to sum up. What he did was just talk, combining aspects of the canon with his own opinion, common criticism and some controversial things that maybe you hadn't thought about, raising points that were actually worth discussing. And so far, you'd always agreed with him.

"Even maneh critics of the era place it above some of Jane Austen's most popular work because of the concept of the eternal romance..."

And he wasn't just intelligent, of course, he was also extremely pleasant to look at, deep brown eyes that made you feel like he could see right through you even if you were sitting in the very back of the lecture hall - which you never did, although you wished you had today for the first time – and his hair framed his features perfectly, softening the curve of his nose, his cheekbones and the sharp edge of his jaw that one could easily got themselves on. He recited stanzas of poems effortlessly with the ability to make even Will the Bard sound sexy.

"So wha's vereh important to consider is the historical context here, if yeh're lookin' at the novel in a biographical light, raisin' questions about tha', yeh might even look at Emileh Brontë and 'er work in comparison to 'er sisters Anne and Charlotte..."

Right now, you were trying to focus on his pretty features rather than the nonsense that was coming out of his mouth but you were finding it increasingly hard to stay quiet, your blood coiling, each word that left those soft-looking lips wrapped up in that Sheffield accent worked you up more.

"So why is it considered one of the greatest romances? Well, the relationship's what's most unique about the storeh, wha' stands out and in me opinion, should beh the target of aneh theoreh's focus, no matter the guidin' question..."

"Professor, please!" The words rushed out before your brain had processed and approved them, and roughly 150 people turned their heads into the direction of your voice, 300 eyes on you, Professor Turner's included. His lectures were always packed, and who could blame them?

The worst thing was, he knew you. It wasn't like you'd blended into the faces of his lectures as a quiet listener, you'd discussed things with him, raised new points, added to his lecture, but you'd never snapped without raising your hand, never interrupted him because how fucking rude was that? and you certainly had never spoken to him with such annoyance.

You hoped for a moment that the Earth would just open up beneath your creaky wooden chair and you'd fall, swallowed by the ground to never return but he was already looking at you expectedly, your name leaving his lips in a way that you weren't sure if he was annoyed that you had so rudely interrupted him, or if he was actually curious about what you wanted to say.