my professor, my obsession || cillian murphy

chapter seventeen

    When I entered the classroom, I noticed Cillian engaged in conversation with another student, who I believed was named Kira. Despite my efforts to dismiss it, a twinge of jealousy crept in. I hated myself for feeling insecure, but a nagging thought lingered: if Cillian is interested in me, what's to prevent him from being interested in another student as well?

I dismissed my silly thoughts with a roll of my eyes, aware of their irrationality. But as I settled into my seat and glanced back at Cillian and Kira, I found his gaze already fixed on me. Despite his impassive demeanor, his eyes betrayed a hint of desire that sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach. He held my gaze for a moment before shifting his attention back to Kira.

Watching Kira walk away, that same surge of jealousy boiled within me, intensified by her obvious flustered state. It was difficult not to blush around him, I didn't blame her, and that realization only heightened my sense of threat. I couldn't quite grasp why I felt that way, and I despised myself for it.

"Alright, now that everyone's here, I should announce that the final essay will be 50% of your grade," he said, then his eyes darted right back at me, "I'm confident you'll do well," he said, and his words felt directed solely at me. He looked back at the rest of the class, his face still a deadpan like it usually is when he teaches. "Since this is our last week together, I'll let this be a work day for you guys to get more progress."

A wave of disappointment washed over me as his words sank in. Last week together. The realization hit hard – only one more session left with him. There was something about being his student that added to the thrill of our relationship. And now that after next week I wouldn't be his student anymore, I felt crushed.

A wave of disappointment washed over me as his words sank in. Second-to-last class together. The realization hit hard – only one more session left with him. The dynamic of being his student added an extra layer of excitement to our connection, and the thought of that coming to an end after next week felt crushing.

Throughout the class, I half-heartedly worked on my essay, not putting in much effort. I held onto the hope that Cillian might cut me some slack. Periodically, I stole glances at him. Often, I'd find his gaze already fixed on me, or he'd suddenly look my way, flashing one of his charming smiles. Each time, it sent a familiar rush of butterflies through my body, a sensation I had grown accustomed to.

As I delved deeper into my work, I found myself making significant progress. So, when I felt his dominating presence behind me, I was startled.

"How's it coming along?" his smooth voice asked softly.

"Eh," I shrugged. I glanced up at him, noticing the furrow in his brows as he scanned what I had written so far. This time, instead of merely diverting his attention to me, he seemed genuinely unimpressed with my work.

He hummed softly to himself before straightening up. "See me after class," he instructed, causing a blush to creep onto my cheeks. Nodding in response, I couldn't shake the feeling that this time would be different.

The class seemed to stretch on longer than usual before finally being dismissed. Waiting until the hall emptied, I approached him, my backpack already packed with my belongings.

"Hi," I greeted with a smile, leaning in expectantly for a kiss. However, he turned his head slightly, shaking it in refusal. My heart sank, and a wave of panic washed over me in that instant.

What did I do? Did I say the wrong thing? Is he regretting everything?

"Clementine," he sighed, his gaze heavy with guilt as he looked down at me. "Just because we're in a relationship now, it doesn't mean you can afford to be lax with your work," he told me, slipping back into that familiar strict tone he hadn't used on me in a while. It was as if he had reverted to being solely my professor once more. "I don't want to be the reason you start slacking off."