Professor Styles

Chapter 2

The lecture simply could not be more boring. It was just a very old professor rambling on for two hours and every 10 minutes he would shout very loudly to apparently get the attention of students at the back of the room.

 I, however, thought the room was dead silent the whole time, was he mental? I truly hate it here. It is depressing. His shouts would scare the absolute sh*t out of you. 

 It was time for Mr Styles' lesson. Despite the very negative thoughts many students were saying about him such as him being crazy, a psycho, mental, I couldn't wait because he taught English. I had fallen in love with stories, poetry, novels, the beauty of words. I was not going to let some man ruin that. 

I was giddy like a small child and others noticed and gave me strange glances as if I was crazy. They looked at me like I was insane. As we got closer to Mr Styles room, Eleanor grabbed my hand and squeezed it. She mouthed, "Just keep your head down and do not draw attention to yourself." 

Why was she so scared? He was only an English professor. Mr Styles door flung open so hard it probably dented the wall. The place shook and everybody stopped dead in their tracks. I jumped and looked up. My eyes fell upon a very tall, muscular man. He must have only been early thirties. He had strong facial features and dark curly hair pushed back. He had sex hair and emerald green eyes. Strong cheekbones, a wide-set jaw and tanned skin.

Despite his physical attractiveness, he looked like he was about to kill someone. His facial expression screamed danger. Everybody was silent, he raised his hand and moved his index finger back and forwards once; calling us in his room. Every single student that walked past him spoke to him politely: "Good morning Mr Styles." It got to me. He waited. I rolled my eyes and  continued. I wasn't a puppet. 

I jolted as he grabbed my arm and yanked me back. I was stood about an inch from him. I could feel his breath.

His green eyes piercing. The whole room was dead silent. He looked livid. 

"Excuse me?" he said in a low gruff voice. His eyes didn't leave mine. He was challenging me. Daring me. Everybody looked at me with sympathetic eyes. 

Clearly he has anger problems. What kind of place is this?  I stared at him in sheer shock and surprise.

"I'm sorry?" I bark back at him in a sharp tone. Who does he think he is? Someone needs to stand up to him. He was clearly taken aback by my reply. It was clear people didn't challenge him often.

 I smirked and spoke with sarcasm, "I'm truly sorry, your highness." 

He tensed and rose an eyebrow. His eyes were stone cold, like the rest of him. 

"Miss Middleton, I would advise you to shut that mouth of yours. You never know what might happen. Sit there." He pointed to the desk directly in front of his. I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off. "NOW! I jumped. 

 Why was he so angry? I sat in the desk, fighting the urge to scream at him. Others, again, favoured the back of the room. I didn't blame them; if i had the choice i would be at the back of the class by now. As far away from this crazy psycho as humanly possible. He was undoubtedly mental. He needed help, surely? 

Throughout the lecture his eyes rarely left mine. He looked as if we was about to murder me. I had zoned out of the lesson because we were looking at Romeo and Juliet, which I knew absolutely everything about. 

I zoned in to the lesson again and realised my gaze was fixed on Mr Styles. He was undeniably beautiful, even for an ass hole.

"Miss Middleton perhaps you should stop staring at my face and listen to what i'm saying." I realised my gaze had not left his all lesson. He smirked at me cockily, he oozed confidence. he thought he was the best thing since sliced bread.

 I quickly snapped at him as an attempt to lessen some of my embarrassment, "Mr Styles, perhaps if you kindly removed your head from your ass, you wouldn't be such an arrogant ass hole."

 I had no idea where that came from, somebody needed to put him in his place though. 

The room fell dead silent. 

Mr Styles cocky, arrogant smirk had long gone and was replaced with a very cold, emotionless stare. His eyes looked black.