Christopher
***It was a known fact that the most famous Renaissance men like Da Vinci, Botticelli, and Michelangelo barely had time for anything else other than their work. Da Vinci even went as far as only sleeping in two hour intervals. According to written accounts, he did this so he could spend less time sleeping and more time working. They barely spent time with their families, they barely developed long-lasting relationships. Every single waking hour of their lives had one purpose, to create.
Only difference between them and I was that I had one of my students resting on my living room couch, making it completely impossible to focus on anything.
I didn't really have any work to do. I just excused myself from the living room because one, Alison needed rest and two, I needed space to think and reflect.
I could still feel her body's warmth from when we hugged. It felt so natural to hug her, her tiny body fitting into my chest like a bird in a nest.
There was this duality about her that amazed me. On the one hand, she could be incredibly witty, smart on her feet. She always had a cheeky comment on the tip of her tongue. She could be confident, sexy, unapologetic, and carry herself right. However, on the other hand, when she knew she had lost control, when she knew her words couldn't protect her like a shield anymore, when she knew she had made a mistake, she was vulnerable, transparent, soft, endearing.
She was both a woman who could carry her own and a girl who wanted to be held.
When she realized she had probably been drugged, the fear and panic she felt pierced through me. I hugged her because I truly wanted her to feel safe in that moment, because I had failed last night.
And sure, you could say that it wasn't my fault at all. After all, she was the one who drank, she was the one who made all those terrible choices.
But she did them to get a reaction from me, to rile me up like she always did.
I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed in frustration. This had to end. There was only one place this was going to go unless I stopped it. I couldn't let this go any further. If I already had the urge to hug her again, to hold her tightly and smell her hair and feel her body against my chest, what the hell would I be feeling in a month if I lead her on?
Unwanted memories of her leaving a lipstick stain on my hand invaded my mind. When she asked me if anything had happened between us, I shouldn't have omitted this very crucial part about last night.
I knew deep down I hadn't told her because I wanted to keep the memory all to myself. I didn't want to admit how much that drunken, completely impulsive action affected me.
I balled my hands into fists.
I was so screwed.
My job at Evergreen was a godsend, I couldn't jeopardize it. If anyone at Evergreen even suspected one of my students had slept in my apartment they'd do a full on investigation. I'd probably lose my job on the spot and lose my credibility. I couldn't put Alison's own fate as a student on the line either.
I sat at my desk, sulking. I had to entertain myself with something for the next couple of hours or I'd go insane.
I reached for the top drawer of my desk and pulled out a drawing pad.
YOU ARE READING
Paint Me, Professor | Student-Professor Erotic Novel | 18+ | ✔️
Romance18+| COMPLETE✔️ "Ali..." He sighed, his breath tickling the skin of Alison's neck. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, admiring her beauty, how youthful she was. He then took his hand off her, suddenly aware of the line he had crossed. "This...