my professor, my obsession || cillian murphy

chapter seven

   "Clem?" Alexandra's voice jolted me back to reality. "Are you okay? You keep zoning out."

Sighing, I could feel the weight of Professor Murphy and I's encounter still lingering in my thoughts. A pit in my stomach hinted that he might have gleaned more than I intended. "No, I'm fine," I assured her, forcing a tired smile. "Just had the longest class, you know how it is."

"Critical Thinking, huh?" She questioned, "at least you have a nice view..."

Typically, Alexandra's comment would have made me laugh, but in that moment, I was so distracted that even the mere mention of Professor Murphy made my toes curl. His warning to stop "snooping around" echoed in my mind, as if he had somehow perceived that I had bought the book because of him. The uncertainty about how he could have figured out my true motives left me in fear.

"Haha, yeah," I managed to force out a laugh, though the effort felt strained. The facade of nonchalance I presented to Alexandra masked the turmoil of thoughts swirling in my head. How did he see through my actions, what did he truly know?

"Well, seriously, how hard is that class?" Alexandra asked. "I'm thinking about taking it next semester, but I bet his classes are gonna fill up fast now that everyone knows who he is."

I hesitated, torn between the reality of the class and my unspoken obsession of Professor Murphy. "Honestly, don't bother," I advised, masking the truth that the professor was the sole redeeming factor of the entire course. "Even if you manage to get in, it's not worth it. Sure, he may be cute, but he's unnecessarily harsh. It's a whole ordeal," I added, attempting to persuade her while secretly convincing myself to distance from my delusions. The conviction that Professor Murphy had discovered my crush drove me to downplay any admiration. "I miss Luvland," I added.

"Seriously? I'd kill to be in that class, you know," she laughed.

"Trust me, you don't," I said.

Alexandra gave me a confused look, almost surprised. "So you don't like him? I thought-"

"It doesn't matter. Let's just stop talking about it." I didn't mean to come off as aggressive, but that's exactly how I sounded. I cringed afterwards but I didn't apologize for my rough tone.

After a long class filled with unspoken tension, I dragged my way back to my dorm. Pushing aside the dozens of assignments I still need to do, I crashed onto my bed and closed my eyes. I was too exhausted to change or even take off my shoes. It wasn't long before I drifted off to sleep.

***

   I woke up to see Professor Murphy standing at the end of my bed. "Good," he smiled, "I've been waiting for you to wake up."

Confused, I sat up immediately, looking around the room, feeling distorted. "Professor Murphy? W-What are you doing? How'd you get here? Why-"

"Enough," he held up his hand as a gesture for me to stop talking. "Those questions don't matter. Aren't you happy that I'm here, Clementine? I mean, it's what you've been wanting for awhile, am I correct?"

A nervous gulp escaped me as I nodded in agreement, struggling to comprehend the surreal sight of Professor Murphy standing in my dorm room. "Yes," I stammered out, my eyes widened with a mixture of shock and confusion.

Perplexed, I tried to process the situation, but before I could gather my thoughts, he urged, "What are you waiting for? I know how you feel about me." With an unsettling calmness, Professor Murphy crawled onto the bed, his towering figure gradually advancing towards me. "I know how obsessed you are with me," he whispered, "how you touch yourself when you think of me. I've got you wrapped around my finger, don't I?"

Tremors coursed through my body, a blend of embarrassment, shock, and an unexpected wave of arousal. His presence overwhelmed my senses, and an intriguing yet unfamiliar scent enveloped the air, captivating my senses like none other. Struggling to define it, the aroma held an inexplicable allure.

My eyes remained fixed on his, but their trajectory betrayed me as they swiftly descended to his hands. The touch traced a deliberate path along my thighs, sending shivers through my spine. The room pulsated with tension as my emotions danced between all the conflicting sensations.

"Why are you still in your day clothes?" He inquired, his touch gentle as he clasped onto my belt buckle. The hushed tones of his voice carried a weight, emphasizing, "It's nearly ten pm."

A surge of arousal intensified within me, his minimal contact already pushing me to the edge. Abruptly, he let go, a sly amusement gleaming in his eyes as he leaned in and whispered, "Have you completed that Criminal Justice research paper that's due tonight at 11:59 pm?"

My eyes snapped open, the room enveloped in darkness, and my body drenched in sweat. Peering through the dorm window, I spotted the full moon, realizing that the vivid experiences flooding my senses were nothing more than a dream. Breathless and disoriented, it felt as though I had just completed a marathon. Both of my legs were tingling from sleep, and I traced my arm under my sleeve, feeling the sleep marks along my skin.

Squirming, I became aware of the dampness in my underwear, causing my face to flush with embarrassment. Swiftly, I stood up, immediately changing my clothes completely. A confusing mix of emotions swirled within me, a blend of bewilderment and disappointment. The dream had been eerily realistic, leaving an unshakable longing in its wake.

Glancing at the clock, it neared 10 pm, mirroring the timeframe Professor Murphy mentioned in my dream. Reality crashed back with the reminder of an impending research paper due in less than two hours.

Perfect.

***

sorry this is so short. just wanted to get one more chapter in before going to bed.