The Professor NEW CHAPTER!!!

The Professor

John stepped through the halls, everything seeming louder and brighter and more annoying than he ever thought it could. His first day of his third year of collage. It was Friday, and he only had one class that day. There was a new professor--Professor Holmes. He was eager to know what he was like, as John liked to well-aquatint himself with professors. He wanted to get on everyone's good side.

John stepped into a quiet and vacant classroom. He was five minutes early. It was cold and he shivered a bit, tugging on the cuffs of his dark blue, knitted jumper. At a cherry brown desk sat a very young man, around John's age. He was thin, and pale, and his hair unkempt. It was dark, and curly, and shiny in the fluorescent lights. He had prominent cheekbones that lengthened his face.

John set his stuff down at an empty seat--they were all empty. He walked over to his new professor, who stood and shook John's hand. He was taller than John, and hovered above him.

"Good Morning, I'm Professor Holmes."

"I'm John Watson."

"Well, Mr. Watson, I hope you won't be of any trouble in my class?"

"No, sir."

"Good." He smirked. His voice was deep, and John could almost feel the vibrations as he spoke. His grip was tight, and steady. John was almost jealous of his hand shake, and the fact that his hands were significantly larger than his own. Professor Holmes sat at his desk and began typing on his phone. He looked angry, his face twisted in a way that John saw from his seat. Holmes let out a loud sigh, and proceeded to continue texting.

"Everything okay?" John asked quizzically.

"Yes, fine. Scotland Yard is just a bit fresh out of interesting cases."

"Oh." There was a long pause of silence before John spoke again. "Do you have a side job, working at Scotland Yard?"

"I wouldn't say "job". I more so solve cases for them because of how ignorant they all are. Why do you ask? Are you interested in police work or any topics surrounding the field?"

"Er, I actually wanted to go into the more medical fields. Become a doctor. Join the army."

"I know." Professor Homes was now typing away at his computer. John couldn't remember when he had started to.

"How can you know all that?"

"Every class you're taking has something to do with requirements for medical practices, except for mine." He spoke quickly, and pointed to the computer.

"Oh, yeah...right."

"Something wrong?"

"No..no." Professor Holmes proceeded to type and click and he spun around in his chair and wrote five large letters on the board: J-O-H-N-W. John watched him write it, pursed his lips, and looked down at his book to continue. There were three minutes left.

"You keep looking at me, why?" Professor Holmes looked up at John, who sat far back in the bleacher-type seats of the room.

"I do? I- I'm sorry, I hadn't noticed."

"No, it's...fine." his voice faded.

"Why do you sit so far back? Come closer, you'll see better."

"I can see just fine." John mumbled lost in his book.

"Yes, you can see your book just fine, but frankly that isn't going to help you with Religious Studies." John looked up at Professor Holmes. The bell rang, and class went on. It was basically an introduction class, and not much went on. The whole time John was transfixed on Professor Holmes' devastatingly blue eyes and thundering low voice. When he left he looked back at the board, and smiled a bit.