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𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕: 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒐𝒅𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒏 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 dark wooden tones. Books were piled up messily in the wall-high shelves. Outside the windows, bare trees lost their last few leaves to the reckless September wind. Grace held her breath as the door fell shut behind her. By now, she'd forgotten that she was supposed to meet Linh at Starbucks. She watched the brunet set the briefcase down beside his desk that had nothing on it but a notebook calendar, a laptop, and a pencil holder that contained a total of three pens. The office looked minimalistic yet cold, lacking any personal items or items that could've been identified as such by the student. 

Professor Barnes turned back to her, leaning against his desk just like he always did. Did he know how good this looked? Grace gulped heavily and set down her coat over a chair next to the entrance door. There they were, alone, able to talk about that fateful Saturday night. Which was necessary, Grace told herself, it had to be done eventually. Maybe him turning her down would help her inappropriate feelings go away?

"You wanted to talk," he lowly let out after some silence, "So talk. I assume it's not about the assignment that's due in a few days?"

Grace shook her head and pressed her lips together, desperately avoiding to look at him and his magnificent, broad shoulders that seemed to strain every shirt he ever wore. 

"Okay, so what is it?"

She glared up at him. Her weight shifted from one foot to the other nervously while she tried to find the correct words. He had his forehead furrowed, creating a deep crease right in between his dark eyebrows, and his baby blue eyes watched her every movement. She ran her slightly sweaty palms over the thin fabric of her shirt that now felt tighter than before, making her feel exposed to him in a way. He could see the curves of her chest, her hips... Nothing he hadn't seen before, that night when she'd worn that awfully short dress. She inhaled deeply, mentally preparing herself to speak as she stepped forward, just to get away from that door behind her, showing him that this time, she wouldn't run off.

"That night at the club," she said, her tongue heavy in her mouth, "Do you... regret it?"

The Professor crossed his arms in front of his chest, testing the fabric of his sleeves again, and cocked his head to the side. His exhale left his lips through a perfectly circular opening.

"What," he asked monotonously, which led to a slight fury beginning to boil in the very back of her guts. He hadn't been that drunk. Grace gulped, trying to get rid of that dry mouth the nervousness had gotten her. 

"What happened in the alley that night. You know exactly what I mean, Professor."

Her voice was more unsteady than she'd hoped for. It showed just how anxious this conversation made her, specifically its inevitable outcome. Her fingers fiddled restlessly, and she tried to keep calm, slowing down her heartbeat again. Ultimately, this mission failed when she saw his jaw clench, his throat bob as he gulped, and finally, let his tongue wet his lips.

"Grace," he eventually sighed in a tone that indicated how unwelcome that topic was for him. Again, the way he'd say her name released butterflies in her stomach, but she quickly got over it, her strain taking over her body and soul for just a bit.

"If Jake hadn't interrupted us, would you have... you know," she mumbled, desperately trying to not break the eye contact now. There was no way she'd let him think she was weak or uncomfortable. Which, to be fair, she certainly was at that very moment. She yearned for his answer, no matter what it would be. Though she didn't have a particularly good feeling about it so far.

"Kissed you?"

He'd said it out loud. Grace's heart picked up the pace again, and she nodded.

"Yes."

"Grace—"

"Just answer me," she groaned in utter despair, ignoring how good her name sounded out of his mouth, "Would you have... kissed me that night?"

He stepped closer now, his arms leaving their crossed position in front of his chest. When he halted right in front of her, mere four feet of distance between them, the young blonde's breath hitched in her throat, making her cough. Her face burned in a firey red by now, and she began to chew on the inside of her cheek anxiously. 

"I was drunk," the brunet eventually said in a low voice, raspy and buzzing against her delicate eardrums. "Maybe— Maybe I would've kissed you, yes."

Grace's heart skipped a beat, and she subconsciously let her eyes flick down to his lips for just a moment. 

"But..." That word got her attention, her gaze now jolting back to those eyes she could get lost in. She held her breath, anticipating his next words.

"But I would've regretted that," he eventually finished his sentence, one hand running over his beard. "Just how I regret saying what I said to you that night. It was more than inappropriate."

Every last bit of hope let the young woman's body at that utterance. And if that hadn't already been enough to bash her down, he added one more sentence.

"It should've never happened. I wasn't sober."

Grace blinked the tears away that had started to pool in her eyes. Sadness mixed with utter despair. She gulped down the knot in her throat and quickly blinked the unwelcomed tears away.

"So I'm just good enough when you're wasted?" she let out, a suppressed anger hidden in her tone, making him press his lips together. 

"I didn't say that, Grace," he explained in a flat tone, "This is about the college policies and me keeping my fucking job."

The fury boiled up within her, taking over her aching guts, making her narrow her eyes at him. 

"So if you weren't my teacher, you—"

"But I am. No hypotheticals, Grace."

She didn't respond. With a disappointed scoff, she abruptly turned around and left the office in a rush, already wiping away her tears as she ran to the nearby ladies' room. She would not come to know what he would've answered. But maybe, she didn't want to know anymore. 

Now that she knew how he thought about the moment they shared that night, her heart was split in two, even though she'd known it would probably end like this. She cursed herself for letting her feelings develop for that man so quickly despite what they were.

Because at the end of the day, he was still just her goddamn teacher. The forbidden fruit on the tree, the one man she wasn't allowed to have. And just like Eve, that prohibition had resulted in Grace yearning for him even more. However, the words he just practically spat out as if it pained him to even give it a thought said more than enough. 

He didn't want her, and she had to get over it. Easier said than done...

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♡𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒐𝒕𝒆♡