Forbidden Love (18+)

"Have a lovely evening Kaitlin"

Kaitlin

Some days, the sheer dread i feel monopolises my body at the thought of having to catch two buses to attend my classes. My housemates brows furrowed at the sight of me rushing towards the fridge door. I try to act as if I didn't see the disappointment in her face, but it was as evident as the rain smashing down onto the windows.

"If you're going to lecture me about being late again, don't bother." Is all that I can manage to spit out before shoving an apple into my mouth.

Jasmine holds her hands up in defence. "I wouldn't dare waste the oxygen." She admits, sending a small wave my way. Her frizzy hair was shoved to the top of her head and she was sat at the table, laptop and coffee in front of her. "Don't forget your keys, I won't be in when you get back later." She reminds me, already preoccupied with the assignment on her new laptop.

My laptop was older than my family dog — and he hadn't gotten a lot of time left.

"I've got them." I reply curtly. I reach into my bag whilst stumbling towards the door just to make sure that I did indeed have the keys.

I did.

"Good luck with your interview today!" I call over my shoulder, taking the apple out of my mouth for that. She thanks me and I rush out a goodbye before pulling up my hood and exciting the building.

My legs run as fast as they can towards the bus stop, hoping that the wait wouldn't be too long. Thirteen minutes. Not too long... Right?

When I arrived at campus, I felt like a drenched sewer rat. I probably stank like one too. "I'm sorry that i'm late." I whisper as I push the door open to my seminar class with the one and only Christian Thomas. The students call him Mr Thomas but he insists on being called by his first name — which is just strange.

He's very good looking though. He's tall and slim framed but muscular and wide-shouldered all at the same time. His beard is perfectly thick and his eyes are so piercing that every time he focused on you, you felt as if he could see into your damned soul.

I don't take a glance towards him or the other students, I take my place alone at the seats near the back of the theatre. "And what reason do we have for being late this time Miss Love?" His calm yet hoarse voice echoed within the room.

I hate my life.

"Have you seen the weather outside?" I attempt a friendly joke but when my eyes meet his handsomely rugged face, I'm not greeted with a friendly look back. He's oh so serious. "I missed my bus so I had to wait for the next one." I lie.

Christian doesn't say anything for a few moments and I swear the silence was deafening. "And have you chosen which writer to be the most influential?" He asked.

And we're back to the topic of last week — which one of these shitty writers are the best. I'd needed to pick one and write a 1,000 word essay on why. I had done that, of course I had.

But i'd also done another essay explaining why writers like Sarah J. Mass were underrated. "Yes I have." Is all that I say, reaching into my bag to pull out the two essays. And when I do — I realise that there was no two essays — just the one that he didn't ask for. Oh fuck my life.

"Right here." I pat the papers in front of me, smiling across the room at him. He won't know until he reads them — and by then, i'll be far gone out of this room.

Christian seems to glance down at the papers and a small look of relief and surprise washes over his face. Relief — he's going to be livid when he reads this. "Can everybody else get out the essay due, leave it on your desks." And he begins to pace around the front of the room.