Unapologetically

chapter one

Marwa walked out of the villa, drawing her dupatta closer to her face. She had scrubbed her hands raw, yet they still smelled like bleach. She patted down the wrinkled in her kameez and took a deep breath, pausing at the side of the road to wait for the bus. The Pakistani heat was merciless as it was most days and even the thinnest, finest lawn could not battle it. As she awaited the bus, she checked her bag for the assignments she had placed inside last night, making sure they were completed and ready to turn in. Professor Zahrun was heartless. It had been nearly three months since she accidentally turned in the essay she wrote for his class with a page missing. He was relentless, giving her a 50% for the incomplete even though she tried to reason that it had gotten lost. That day was another that reminded her that when the world became heartless, it happened all at once.

She ran to her class, panting heavily as she pushed past students, anxious to make it on time. She detested Intro to Pathology and all because of Professor Zahrun. Sometimes she felt like he could smell the bleach off her hands, see beyond what is possible, hear how fast her heart beats in his presence. He scared her. He angered her.

As she slipped into the lecture hall, minutes before the bell, she breathed out a sigh of relief she didn't know she'd been holding. Professor Zahrun looked up briefly, his steely gray eyes landing on her briefly. She failed to withhold his gaze, and her eyes fell as she rushed to the back of the hall.

Rohail Zahrun watched the girl run into the room, her deep brown eyes wide as she let out a huge sigh. Small tendrils of black curly hair framed her face, the white duppata hiding the rest from his line of sight. She was a good student, assignments in on time, completed to the finest detail. She was brilliant, he knew that. But so were most students at the University. She seemed an enigma to him. There was something about her that probed him, whether it was the anger in her eyes, or the sadness in them. The way she seemed to grow thinner day by day, or how her eyes would pool in tears as she'd gaze at nothing at all.

She was present in his class, but absent at the same time.

It bothered him. His lessons were designed to be rigorous, requiring the utmost attention to the lecture notes and material, yet she never faltered, never missed a word that came out of his mouth. He felt as if she thought she was far too good for his class. And her aloofness was not unheard of on campus. She was brutal. She shutdown friendly advancements, did not spare a second glance to those who approached her.

Just who did she think she was?

Marwa listened attentively, jotted down all notes, even drew diagrams to further her understanding. When the class ended, she grabbed her bag, shoved in her supplies and briskly walked towards the door.

"Ms. Kafeel. Stay back for a moment." The voice was hard-set, deep and authoritative. It of course belonged to Professor Zahrun. She turned around, nodding her head in affirmation as she took timid steps towards his desk, keeping a modest distance between them.

If Rohail had been given a personal choice, he would have never selected the arrogant Marwa Kafeel to be his student teacher for the rest of the year. Alas, the department had made the selection based on grades and other factors he was unaware of. She looked towards him, raising her head, an eyebrow arched as she silently beckoned him to start the conversation.

He sighed. "You may be aware that each first year class is being assigned a student teacher, a position of the highest regard for the students here, and so you've been selected for this class."

Marwa's eyebrows furrowed. Student teacher? For this class? Having to spend more time with a man that radiated power, privilege, and judgement?

"Are you certain? Perhaps there's been a mistake." She tried to argue but Professor Zahrun only sat back down in his chair, his jaw hardening slightly.

"Believe me Ms. Kafeel, I've checked to make sure of this matter. I'm not delighted with this arrangement but we'll have to adjust won't we?" He raised a brow, as if to challenge her to continue her argument.

Marwa shifted to the other foot. "What does this mean for me? What must I do?"

Rohail let a smirk settle as he scanned her face. He had never noticed the faint beauty marks that littered her face: one below her nose, above her lip, another on her cheekbone, and one more underneath her eyebrow. His eyes flickered back to her eyes.

"Well for one, arriving sooner than on the brink of time. I'm sure that'll be a struggle. You will find me after your classes in this room where we will make a plan for the next class. You will be looking at an extra hour in this room before and after University starts and ends for you."

Her sharp intake of breath didn't go unnoticed by him. "Is there an issue Ms. Kafeel?" He watched as she wrung her hands, the skin red with her ministrations.

"I have before class arrangements. I can't come earlier than I already do." She watched his expression, his handsome features were contorted into something devilish as if he enjoyed her discomfort. Professor Zahrun was not much older than her, a fresh graduate of the University Hospital. She had heard that he planned to teach one more year and then go back to working at the hospital. If only he had started next year instead of this year.

He got out of his chair, walking around the desk to lean against the front of it. He folded his arms, an amused smile playing against his lips. "Let's get one thing clear, Ms. Kafeel. You don't come early at all."

Marwa's eyes flashed in anger. "Last time I checked, Professor, I was always on time. Isn't that right?"

Rohail was taken aback. It was the first time she had spoken back to him. He always knew there was fury underlying her calm demeanor, and he had always wondered what'd take to bring it out of her. He studied her with his eyes, walking closer, backing her into the desk behind her.

"I'd watch my tongue if I were you, Ms. Kafeel."

He was so very close to her. She could feel his hot breath on her skin. If she moved an inch she could touch his dark hair that always seemed so tousled.

Her smell infiltrated his nose, it was jasmine, he was sure of it. He fought against every urge that told him to touch her. She was enticing, her brown eyes willing him to back down, defiant.

"Let's give advice that we can actually take ourselves."

She could seen the anger flash in his grey eyes as he clenched his jaw. He took a step back, retreating to a safer area. If he had stayed, he would have found his hand on her pretty little throat.

The torturous little Marwa Kafeel, who tried so hard to hide before him. The lowered gaze, the seat in the back of his class, the baggy shalwar kameez that could never hide her curves, the textured curly hair he wanted to feel against his skin.

"Leave."

He turned around, moving back to his desk. When he turned around she was slipping through the door, a hand on her heart as she tried to still the desire coursing through her veins. The last thing he caught sight of was the thin silver chain around her ankle.