The Forbidden Love of Aesop Sharp

Chapter 5 - First Private Lesson

I had arrived early outside the Potions classroom, seeking refuge from the stifling summer heat outside in the coolness of the castle's dungeons. I had spent the morning in my quarters in the Hospital Wing, opting for solitude and avoiding another tense meal with Sharp. The whole afternoon, I wasn't able to do anything, to impatient to meet him again.

So, ten minutes before our first private lesson, I paced back and forth in front of the closed classroom door, awaiting the moment to enter. Despite the oppressive summer heat outside, the dungeons of the castle felt chilling, making me second-guess my choice of attire.

The long blue robe I wore seemed like a good choice for the occasion, but its lightweight fabric allowed the chilly dungeon air to seep in, making me shiver despite the heat outside. I had tied my hair up in a simple bun to keep it from getting in the way during the Potions lesson.

As I slowed my paced, trying to keep my heels from alerting Sharp to my early arrival, the door suddenly swung open before me, nearly causing me to stumble. Sharp, trading his recent casual attire for his professorial uniform, stood before me. I couldn't help but scrutinize every detail of his appearance, captivated by his transformation.

Regrettably, there was little time to appreciate the spectacle his presence offered, as he knit his brows and delivered a stinging remark. "Do you plan to enter the room, or will you linger aimlessly in the corridor?"

His words stung, and I blushed, moving closer to the door. I came within inches of him but he blocked my path, his hand resting on the doorframe.

"Before we proceed," he stated in a chilling tone, his gaze locked onto mine, "there are a few rules I'd like to establish for our current situation. If you're not willing to adhere to them, I suggest you turn around now, as I won't tolerate any deviation."

I swallowed hard, resisting the urge to step closer to him, the allure of his scent leaving me breathless. With an hesitant nod, I acknowledged his terms. He lowered his arm, allowing me to pass.

Entering the room cautiously, I ran my hands over my arms to warm them up. The muffled sound of the door slamming shut behind me made me jump, and I turned to face him. Sharp stood in front of the door, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable.

"What are these rules?" I dared to ask, offering a faint smile in an attempt to alleviate the already tense atmosphere.

He approached me but kept a respectable distance. "Our interactions will be strictly professional," he declared firmly, leaving no room for debate. "I refuse to continually talk about what we lived before. It was a mistake and should never have happened."

My smile fainted almost immediately, "Aesop—"

"Let me finish," he interrupted with an eye roll. "I also refuse any form of familiarity between us. I want to know nothing about your life and your problems; I won't play the role of a confidant anymore."

I immediately lowered my gaze, biting my lip and holding back tears. I clasped my arms with my hands, digging my nails into my skin to keep myself silent.

"These lessons have one sole purpose: to help you regain your foundational knowledge of potions and improve, nothing more," he continued, taking a step closer to me. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you," he demanded firmly.

I raised my eyes, trying to contain my emotions in the face of the humiliation he was subjecting me to. Everything about his demeanor was so far from the man I had once known, who had taken care of me after Fig's death and had been my confidant, my friend and more. He was now cold, authoritarian, and calculating.

"I also no longer want you to call me by my first name," he declared. My vision blurred, tears starting to well up. "I told you this before your final-year exams. From now on, it's 'Sir,' at the very least 'Sharp,' but nothing more."