❝ HE'S PSYCHOTIC, OBSESSIVE, AND MY WORST NIGHTMARE.
OF COURSE, I'M THE ONE HE CHOOSES ❞
[ DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON AU]
[ TEACHER!TOM HIDDLESTON AU ]
[ BOOK ONE IN "THE NEFARIOUS" SERIES ]
[ ORIGINALLY...
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THE FINAL BELL IS A beacon of freedom and no student dares to linger in this prison any longer than necessary. The halls were thinning out as I find myself on the third floor of the school building. Though huffing and puffing from the pure torture that stairs exist to be, my heart pounds against my chest for a whole different reason.
Ellie's comments cycled through my brain for the entirety of homeroom and all through lunch. What should have been a mediocre meal of processed food accompanied by busting out in laughter at some corny joke made by River turned into me picking at a pathetic salad and using a headache as an excuse for my lack of attention. The comment from Ellie was the center focus no matter how hard I willed for it to go away.
It shouldn't bother me so much. Rumors are spread all the time, but in my mind, the fact that I could only focus on Mr. Hiddleston was enough to lead me to the third floor.
By the time homeroom ended, I made the decision that I needed to talk to Mr. Hiddleston for his own sake. With the confirmation that Ellie would pick me up when I call and her cool demeanor after expressing my serious reasons, I now set out to solve a problem and, hopefully, snuff out the suspicions my thoughts are consistent in reminding me of.
"I would just feel terrible if other teachers caught wind of whatever people are saying," I told Ellie in a hushed whisper as I escorted to her class a couple hours ago. "I don't think I could live with myself if I put a man's job at risk."
Ellie had smiled at this before stopping right outside her classroom. "You're really too nice for your own good— don't give me that look—" she said as I rolled my eyes— "No one takes those kind of rumors seriously, anyway. Especially when it comes to the hot teacher everyone wants to sleep with. But telling him is the considerate thing to do." She paused as the one-minute warning bell echoed throughout the halls. "Are you going to completely cut off those after-school things?"
Even now, as I inch closer to the classroom, I don't believe the answer that I gave her. In my best friend's mind, she is under the impression that I'm cutting off all kind of contact with the teacher outside of the classroom. And trust me, I want to stick to those guns out of respect. I'm not popular in this little city, but anyone can become the talk of the town if a scandal like this were to break out, truth or not.
