Vadim Sokolov pov
She possesses an exquisite beauty that captivates anyone who lays eyes on her. Her cascading, lustrous brown hair and radiant sun-kissed complexion complement her overall allure. Her eyes hold a captivating blend of sweetness and intensity, leaving one unable to avert their gaze.
Ever since I caught a glimpse of her engrossed in a book at the library yesterday, my thoughts have been consumed by her. The moment our eyes met, I knew that she would be mine.
Currently, I find myself in the principal's office, examining her file, and I must say, she is absolutely flawless. There is not a single flaw to be found.
She is an exceptional student, consistently achieving straight A's and maintaining an impressive 4.0 GPA. Her father is a successful Italian businessman, while her mother is a renowned Arab model. With such a powerful family background, it's no surprise that she exudes confidence and carries herself with utmost self-assurance.
While I proceed with reading her file, I begin to hear footsteps approaching the principal's office. In a quick moment, I discreetly place the file back in its original position and casually take a seat on a nearby chair, appearing as though I am patiently waiting for the principal.
"I apologize for the delay, Mr. Sokolov," the principal says as she approaches her desk and takes a seat. Retrieving my file, she begins to peruse its contents. "According to this, you relocated here from Russia," she states, glancing at me to confirm. I simply nod in response.
"Alright, since today is your first day at Sundown Academy, I'll arrange for one of our students to give you a tour," she informs me as she puts away my file. Once again, I simply nod in response. "I'll provide you with your daily schedule, and then I'll personally escort you to your first class." With that, she rises from her chair and turns around to retrieve my schedule from a nearby shelf. As I stand up to receive it, she hands me the schedule.
"Alright then, let's proceed," she said. Making her way towards the office door, she graciously opened it and motioned for me to exit first. Following her lead, we embarked on the journey to my first class. Taking in the surroundings, I couldn't help but notice the timeless charm of the school. Despite its age, it exuded an air of elegance and sophistication, adorned with rich, dark wood accents throughout.
"We're here for your first class, which is history," she says, knocking on the door. An elderly woman opens the door, greeting us with a smile. "What can I do for you, Mrs. Riley?" she asks.
"I have a new student for you, Mrs. Taylor. He's from Russia," the principal says, pointing towards me. The elderly woman looks at me and smiles. "I'm glad to have you here with us. What's your name, young man?" she asks with a curious look.
"I'm Vadim Sokolov," I respond with a Russian accent.
"It's very nice to meet you, Vadim Sokolov. I'm Mrs. Taylor," she says, extending her hand for a handshake.
I shake her hand and give her a nod. "You're in good hands, Mr. Sokolov. Mrs. Taylor is an excellent teacher." the principal says, smiling at me before turning to face Mrs. Taylor. She asks, "Can you please ask one of your students to show him a tour?" "Yes, of course," the elderly woman responds. The principal smiles and walks away.
"Please come in," Mrs. Taylor says sweetly. I give her a light smile and enter the classroom. As I step through the door, the room falls silent. All eyes are on me, some filled with curiosity and others with apprehension. Personally, I prefer to be feared.
"Everyone, this is our new exchange student from Russia. He will be joining us today," the elderly woman announces to the class. Surveying the room, my gaze lands on her. I can't seem to look away as she chats with a friend beside her. "Please give him a warm welcome and make him feel comfortable here at the Academy," she concludes, making her way to her desk. "Mr. Sokolov, please take a seat at the front of the class," she politely instructs.
I follow the teacher's instructions and take my seat in the front row. I comfortably sit down, spreading my legs. Out of curiosity, I glance to my left and notice her looking back at me from her own seat. As soon as our eyes meet, she swiftly shifts her gaze back to the teacher.
The teacher proceeds with her lecture on ancient civilizations, while I observe her attentively. I notice her jotting down notes as the teacher speaks, diligently capturing the information being imparted. I find myself unable to concentrate on the subject matter. My focus is solely on her, captivated by her beauty. She possesses an ethereal quality that has completely captured my attention. It's remarkable how effortlessly she holds my gaze, without even consciously trying.
I find myself in awe of her for what seems like a full minute until the sound of the bell interrupts my thoughts. I rise from my seat and begin to make my way towards the exit. Just as I reach the door, Mrs. Taylor calls out, "Mr. Sokolov, can you please stay behind for a moment?" I nod in acknowledgment and make my way over to her desk. "Aurora, my dear, could you please come here?" the teacher requests in a gentle voice.
Intrigued, I glance to see who this Aurora girl is, and to my surprise, it's the same girl from the library, the one I've been sneaking glances at throughout the entire class. She walks with confidence, her hips swaying from side to side, exuding the grace of a model. "Yes, Mrs. Taylor? How can I assist you?" she politely asks, her eyes fixated on the teacher. I simply gaze down at her, feeling blessed to hear her voice.
"As you know, this is our new exchange student from Russia," she says, Aurora's eyes meet mine with the same sweet and intense gaze as yesterday. "Since he's new here, I want you to show him around and help him out throughout the day."
Aurora looks up at me then back at the teacher and responds , "I'll be happy to show him around."
"Good. Now you two go on, you don't want to be late for your next class," Mrs. Taylor says with a smile, waving us off.
As we transition from one class to the next, my attention remains fixed on her. I notice her glancing at me and finally, she brings up the question, "Do you have a habit of staring?" she asks, pausing in her steps and meeting my gaze.
I gaze down at her, choosing not to respond. With anticipation in her eyes, she awaits a reply that I do not offer. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" she taunts, crossing her arms. I maintain my silence, simply looking down at her. Frustrated by my lack of reaction, she resumes walking.
As I observe her walking in front of me, a grin spreads across my face as I admire the sway of her hips.
^*what do you guys think about Vadim Sokolov?*^
