𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞? - 𝐀𝐧 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 ♡︎

𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞, 𝐚𝐲? ♡︎

"Back in the good old days, when we had nothing to worry about. Now i've got this job yay me." The clear skinned man stared back at me waiting for a response.
"Erm.. you were okay. Not being horrible, you were good looking but not wait ugh-"
What the fuck was that?! What the fuck just came out my mouth? I was an embarrassment. Trying to hide his smirk Mr. Turner fiddled around with the papers on his desk and slowly returned his gaze to me.
"Well Miss.Webster i appreciate the compliment. But now onto what we needed to talk about." He gently smiled at me and left a pause to collect his thoughts.

"As i've already told you, i saw the whole thing and i know you were just sticking up for your friend, and i completely understand that. Don't tell anyone, but i would of done the exact same thing if it wasn't for my position." He spoke calmly, almost cocky which was a first i had heard from him. Ugh entitled much.
"However i can't let you leave my office unscathed of a punishment like the others."
"Wait Freddie got a punishment?? You have to be kidding me? He did nothing wrong?" i wriggled in my seat uncomfortable at this information.
"Well Miss.Webster he did instigate it by yelling at the crowd of boy many insults, involving quite vulgar language. Now i know you're new here but we don't condone this kind of behaviour." The words practically rolled of his tongue, no stuttering, no mumbling, only gaps for breath and effect. He was almost perfect really.

Staring straight to him, i took in more of his face. Up close it was a whole lot more attractive and i could see every crease and 'imperfection' on his face, but if i'm being honest he had no imperfections. He was gorgeous. The way his dark brown hair fell in front of his face and the way he swished it back like he was in a boy band. I slightly smile at the idea and image in my mind of Mr. Turner being in a boy band.

"Something funny?" he questions with a confused look on him
"Oh no sorry sir, so what do i have to do, a detention?"
"Well, it's supposed to be and after school detention, but honestly i don't think it's necessary so you can have a lunch detention with me instead so no hassle should really be caused. How does that sound?" He spoke clear but sounding as if he was trying to comfort me, be nice to me.
"Yeah sure, but when is this and where is this because i don't know where anything actually is." i state confused still staring down at his thought out desk plan.
"Oh it's E1 i can show you if you like and, if you want it done and dusted, you can have it this lunch time so you don't have anymore annoyance from me." he said with a slight smile.

He was so cute when he smiled, two little dimples formed on each side of his closed lips. The way his lips pursed together while waiting for a response was so adorable. How can someone be so god damn sweet? Erm what? I keep forgetting this is my teacher. He looks quite young for a teacher though, it's weird, especially for him being a head of department. I thought you had to train years for that, and definitely for Cambridge. Oh that was no excuse, this was my teacher for fuck sake, stop thinking he's cute.

"Erm yeah if you don't mind. I would like that, i think i might actually have English with you today anyway, last period." i say thinking hardly about my timetable and which classroom i was in.
"Oh, well that will be nice having a familiar face and having someone to talk to." he spoke like he was genuinely happy i was going to be in his class. "Well i guess i have to show you my classroom then, can't have you being late like History." he got up from his seat and slowly opened his door holding his arm out like he was guiding me through it. He was such a gentleman. Ew no stop.
"Well i didn't even make it to history." i snigger as i walk past him, which in return he offers me a faint smile obviously trying to be polite. He didn't care about me. Why am i looking too much into this? I'm just another student.

Following him through the long broad corridor, he try's to start some small talk on like where i've transferred from and if i have many friends. He was generally quite good at conversation but it did take him a good while to form an actual comprehensive sentence, i will give him that. For an English teacher at Cambridge you'd expect him to never mess up a single sentence and snobby. But in fact he's quite far from that, he's down to earth, doesn't really think he's a higher being then you (unlike most teachers) and he certainly isn't an absolute knob for no reason: which is a plus. I can tell i'm going to like English with him.

As we approach the end of the hall he turns to me looking down at me. We were quite close (5cm apart at a rough guess) my belly twisted at this sight and i felt flutters and a warm sensation fill my body. There we go, i was flushing a shade of red again. How embarrassing.
"And this, this will be your favourite class for next 2 years of your life." he says smiling at himself and his vanity.
"I'm sure it will be sir, no doubt in that."
"And what does that mean?" he queries unlocking the door to his room.
"Nothing- just- you know- your an actual decent person, well from what i've seen so far. Most teachers are stuck up and think they're superior to their students. When in fact i could argue an ant would be superior to them." i jokingly muttered as he turned around to face me.
"Really now?" he tilted his head as he questioned me and let loose a tiny giggle.

Ugh that giggle was so cute. No stop. What the hell Kate, i have a problem, he's probably 10 years older than me.

As i shuffle into his classroom, i see a neatly displayed classroom with simplistic decorations around the walls and huddled tables dotted around, apart from a desk at the front opposite his desk which could seat 2. His room was tidy -like his office down the hall- he had another picture on this desk but i couldn't see it as it was facing away from me. The carpet looked fresh almost new and it smelt new as well. His room had a coffee smell to it, but not that gross kind of old man coffee, like a warm, rich coffee on a winters morning. Like how i had imagined the taste of his lips previously. Damn i was good. He had a projector hanging down from the ceiling which was facing a whiteboard with annotations on it, on some sort of poem i can only assume. It was beautiful writing i'll give the author that. Majestic some may argue.

Your love is like a studded leather headlock
Your kiss it could put creases in the rain
You're rarer than a can of dandelion and burdock
And those other girls are just postmix lemonade

Suck it and see, you never know
Sit next to me before I go
Jigsaw women with horror movie shoes
Be cruel to me, 'cause I'm a fool for you

I poured my aching heart into a pop song
I couldn't get the hang of poetry
That's not a skirt girl, that's a sawn off shotgun
And I can only hope, you've got it aimed at me

Suck it and see, you never know
Sit next to me before I go
Jigsaw women with horror movie shoes
Be cruel to me, 'cause I'm a fool for...

"That writing. It's beautiful. Who wrote it? I would love to check out some of their work." i quietly spoke, but loud enough so he could hear me and i approached the board.
"Oh ha- erm- it was just something i was working on, nothing special." He brushes off as he tries to wipe it off but i step in his way.
"You wrote this?" i interrogated him
"Well, erm, yeah- yeah i did." he said head downturned to the floor and playing with the nape of this neck.
"Suck it and see, ay?" i slightly chuckled "Don't think you should be letting other students see that, they might get the wrong impression." i follow my statement up with, still smirking at the fact this man wrote the most gorgeous sonnet ever but has the most explicit undertones.

There was something about that man. Something that i can't quite figure out...