The Med-Student X The Teacher(Boyxboy)

Anxiety Attack

Jace’s POV

“Babe. . . . .up. . . .” I hear next to my ear as I start to wake up. 

“Mmmm.” I mumble nuzzling into my soft pillow. I feel a hand gently brush my hair away from my face.

“Babe, time to get up.” Luke mumbles.

“You get up.” I mumble and snuggle into his side. He chuckles sleepily. 

“Nope, I’m off the hook. My first class isn’t until noon.” He tells me rubbing my back. “How are your hips?” He asks.

“Mmmm.” I mumble and he chuckles lightly.

“Come on, babe. You’ll be late if you don’t get up.” He says. I sigh and open my eyes. I see Luke looking at me with a light smile. “Morning.” He says huskily. I get up stretching and crawl onto him, straddling his waist.

“Morning.” I breath out softly and lean down giving him a long kiss. After we pull apart I get up and head to the shower. My hips do ache slightly. Too much sex. I turn the warm water on and get in. 

Thirty minutes later I’m drying my hair with a towel wrapped around my waist. I grab my work clothes quietly from the closet. I hear Luke’s light breathing coming from the bed. I go over to the bed where he lies sprawled out and give him a light kiss on the forehead. I go into the kitchen and fix myself some toast. While that’s toasting I pour myself some orange juice. I pull out the butter and a butter knife. This toast pops and butter it(this is very interesting stuff isn’t it?). I eat my toast as I gather my stuff for work. Before leaving I take my pills for my depression. Thinking back now, I probably should have taken my anxiety pills.

I get to the school by seven a.m., an hour before my first class. I take this time to get things graded. I really should pass things back. Maybe I’ll do that at the start of class today. I type the grades into my computer. I need to talk to a few of them, their grades our pretty low. Maybe I’m not teaching right? Am I doing something wrong? Probably. I shake my head. 

(Short Time Skip Of Like An Hour)

Bing! Bing! Bing! The bell rings signaling the start of class.

“Okay, quiet down, please.” I say and the class goes quiet. “Welcome back to another day of school everyone. How are you today? Tired?” I ask like I do every day. I hear a collection of replies. “Today, I want to see your fantasy writing skills today, so I’m going to give you a prompt. It can be no less than a page and as long as you want. Write normal too. No writing gigantic letters to take up the space. Okay, so your prompt. . .” I trail off thinking. “You’re a warrior, male or female your choice, you’re walking through a field when you stumble upon. . . a resting dragon on a hoard of gold. What happens next? You finish the story. Be creative. Use description. I want this before you leave my class. Okay? Now, who needs paper and/or a pencil?” I ask and one-forth of the class raises their hand. I grab a pile of line paper and a cup of pencils and walk around giving them what they need. “Make sure to give me the pencils back when you turn in your paper. I’ll warn you five minutes before class is over so you have time to wrap it up. If you aren’t near to finishing the story by that time then, end it with a cliff-hanger. I’ll look them over later then, give them back tomorrow to go over them with you. While you’re doing that I’ll pass back some of your graded papers.” I tell them. It goes quiet except for the tap of pencils on paper.