𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | ✓

21

Exactly at twelve forty-five, I return to Professor Wright's office, and this time; I knock on his half-open door.

His head snaps up from the yellow folder in his hand. The same one the black suit guy gave him.

"May I?" I ask softly, my heart hammers in my chest as his eyes bore into me.

"Not today Stewart," he mutters and returns to reading the file.

"I won't take much of your time, only two seconds, I promise," my voice gets an edge, making it sound pitcher even to my own ears.

He sighs and glares at the wall across from him before inhaling slowly as if composing himself. Deliberately he turns to me and gives a single nod.

I smile from the sudden relief and hurry into the room, and slid a strap of my bag off my shoulder, and unzip it. As I pull out the purple binder holding all the pages of my assignment, I notice his gaze on me. My anxiety level spikes up, causing my insides to quaver.

He frowns as I place my folder on his desk and take a step back. "That's it." I'm ready to turn and flee when he stops me.

"What's this?" he asks, shutting the yellow folder and leaning forward to pick mine.

"The answers."

His brow furrows further as he glances between me and the binder. "Didn't I tell you to hand them all in together? I won't accept if you're planning on giving them separately." He holds out the folder for me.

I smile. "You did, sir. But that's all of it." I clasp my hands in front of myself.

He quirks an eyebrow at me, holding my assignment in one hand, he flicks the yellow folder in the drawer of his desk. The same drawer I found the Reimann surface problem in it.

"All of it?" he questions, looking over the black frame of his glasses.

I nod.

"All fifty?" he asks again.

I bite my bottom lip to hide my growing smile. "Yes, Professor."

He eyes me suspiciously before flipping it open and reading through my answers.

As he scans page after page, I watch him closely. Noting how his eyebrows draw together and raise slightly, how the corner of his mouth lifts up and then goes back to a straight line. I can't help but note how truly handsome, or as Ashely would call him, a yummy guy, he is.

His skin is smooth, his face is clean-shaven, making him look much younger than other days where he had stubble. His light skin tone is the evidence of spending the majority of his time indoors, but it doesn't make him look like a ghost and the black shirt he's wearing only helps him be more striking than ever.

I inhale sharply and fidget with my fingers, dragging my eyes away from his face and to his index finger, tracing my answers in an impossibly swift move.

"Did you do it all by yourself?" he asks and takes the papers out of the binder, comparing some of them together.

"Yes." I play with my wristwatch as he nods.

Wright halts and quirks an eyebrow before bending down and pulling out his tablet, he glances between the screen and checks the top of the pages, where I've written the questions in black.

Finally, he puts aside his tablet, his eyebrows raising, and eyes widening. He leans into his chair, lips parting but he shakes his head. "I gave you these on Friday?"

I nod and grin. Not being able to stop myself, I inch to him. "You're impressed?"

He shakes his head, but a slow and small smile appears.