Losing Faith

𝟏𝟕

September.
Am I a bad person?
He has a wife, and I'm his student.
He doesn't know I'm using him, and I don't feel guilty.
Am I a bad person?

—

𝐒 𝐄 𝐏 𝐓 𝐄 𝐌 𝐁 𝐄 𝐑.
Two months before the party.

—

"You have to clean all these cauldrons and put all this in its place," Professor Anderson pointed to the pile of bottles and packages lying on the table where they usually made potions, "Without using magic, of course, give me your wand."

His hand was now outstretched, waiting for Faith to put her wand there. But she just snorted, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe anything else?" Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her voice was laced with sarcasm, "Maybe you'll also cast a spell on me?" Faith sat on the edge of her desk, smiling contentedly at the expression on Anderson's face — she knew that he hated it when someone in his class did that, despite the fact that he only sat like that.

It gave her pleasure to bring the professor to such a state when his jaws were tightly clenched, his lips were pursed, and there was a fire in his dark eyes; it was always something like a war between them, who would surpass whom in bringing the other to hysteria.

He neglected and despised her, left her to be detained for the slightest offense, while she disobeyed him, behaved brazenly and shamelessly, in the way he hated, and now they were both on the verge.

"Or maybe you'll be breathing down my back, making sure that I don't pull my wand out of my pocket?" Faith spoke again, without wiping the smile from her face, behind which she hid irritation and anger.

"Stop this stupid and— just give me your wand and get to work." He took a deep breath, trying to control himself and not do or say something that he would regret, but he felt that a little more and he would have snapped, because this girl from the very first day did not give him peace, making him feel, feel emotions.

"No." Faith snapped, looking boldly at Anderson, there was determination and steadfastness in her eyes.

"Silver-Harris, you better—"

"No." She repeated it, interrupting the professor, whose voice sounded strained, as if he was barely restraining himself from shouting or, worse, killing her to hell.

"I won't do any of the things you told me to do. This detention is unfair, I have done nothing wrong to be here now!" She exclaimed, feeling the fire burning inside her again, like every time she had to fight with him and his unfair, in her opinion, attitude towards her.

Her hands were now tightly gripping the desk on both sides of her, her eyes barely had time to follow his sharp, fast movements — a couple of seconds and he was already next to her, placing himself between her legs, their noses almost touching. Now Faith felt a tingling sensation that made her heart beat twice as fast; his proximity and piercing gaze had an intoxicating effect on her.

"In your opinion, incessant chatter with your friend is not considered a weighty reason for detention?" Professor Anderson's voice was low, penetrating deep into her mind, touching her lips with a warm breath; she had to swallow hard.