Atrocious

- Chapter 9 -

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!!"
I jumped out of bed and ran staggering into the bathroom.
Hanging my head over the sink, I expected to throw up at any moment.
'Where's my pigtail?'
I stayed in this pose for five minutes, but was relieved that nothing came.
I took a deep breath and looked at my scrunched up, sweaty face.
'That was me... In that dream. That was me talking to me'
'Fuck,' it felt real.
The cold, the smells, everything. Like I was really there. I still felt sick and decided to wash up to remove the sweaty film on my skin and clear my head.
'They're coming'.

When I had actually managed that and could now think clearly, I went to my sleeping corner and opened the curtain of my window.
It was still dark and I was surprised to find that it was only 5 o'clock. The nausea subsided.
'Why these images? What was that dream and why did it feel so real?
Sleep was out of the question and I decided to get the apartment ready.
I had to be quiet so as not to wake anyone, so I started to unpack and put away my clothes, bed linen and towels.
The wardrobes had enough space for more and I was tempted to buy new clothes for the next few weeks.
I was able to distract myself very well by putting things away, but this thought and dream was wafting in the back of my mind. I had to think about it further or talk to someone at some point, even if my body resisted.

The empty boxes were carefully folded up and I put on a bathrobe to dispose of the boxes outside.
I carefully opened the door and looked into the hallway. No one was there.
Good.
With the folded boxes, my beautiful red plaid bathrobe and my All Might slippers, I went out to sneak to the entrance of the house to dispose of the trash.
I couldn't hear anyone. Presumably everyone was still asleep and this was my moment.
I shuffled briskly to the elevator and went down to the first floor.
It was quiet there too and only a few lights were on, bathing the entrance area in soft light.
Out to the garbage cans, I hastily stuffed the boxes inside.
There wasn't much room left, but I just managed to close the lid. As I straightened my robe, I saw out of the corner of my eye someone standing in the doorway.
"Huhuuu."
Sekijiro Kan was standing there, wearing short denim pants and a stained shirt.
His head was red and his eyes were glassy.
There must have been a drinking binge.
"Good morning Mr. Kan. I hope I didn't wake you?"
The question was unnecessary because it looked like he hadn't slept at all.
"No, I wasn't asleep... I was drinking with the others and there was No.13 and Aizawa and the others and so on". He looked at me confused: "Why are we on first name terms? I'm Sekijiro but you can call me Vlad!"
I smiled and agreed to the new form of address.
"So you've been drinking. Who were the others?"
"I don't remember....," he wiped his face and breathed in the cold air.
Then he shook his head and I could literally feel him struggling to formulate a normal sentence: "Didn't you sleep either? What are you doing?"
I explained my plan to unpack everything and organize the apartment after I couldn't sleep anymore and he asked me to help.
I declined, but he insisted.
"Are you sure about this? If you've been drinking, I'd like you to get better."
"I'm fine!!!"
I raised my hands and surrendered to his motivation.

As we got on the elevator and I chose the second floor, I felt his hand on my belt.
"That's a nice bathrobe"
"Thank you. It was a gift."
He stroked from the belt over to the fabric of the robe and touched my arm and shoulder.
Alcohol truly takes away all inhibitions.
"Nice fabric," he murmured.
Even though I have to say I liked the touch, I discreetly kept my distance and started a conversation.
We talked about his time as a teacher and his specialty 'blood manipulation'.
'An extremely interesting specialty,' I thought, discussing the pros and cons.
When we reached my apartment, I let him in and he looked around.
"Quite empty but I'll help you where I can"
"Thank you very much! Would you set up the two pieces of furniture I gave you? There's an armchair and a bedside cabinet. In the meantime, I would put away my books, documents and odds and ends. But if you realize that you can't, please stop."
He nodded silently and I handed him the tools.
The work went smoothly. I heard him hiccup from time to time, which was quite amusing, and I put the rest of my things away.
We spent a few hours together and I got to know him and his character better.
I would describe him as a helpful and attentive alpha. He was assertive, strong and confident with a soft, friendly side for those around him. The 1-B was his class and he loved it more than anything.
He also got on well with Shota and enjoyed the rivalry between the two classes. This motivates both students and teachers to give their all and excel.
It was only when the students got too rowdy and violence came into play that contact had to be minimized or briefly stopped.

We were almost finished, but it seemed like an eternity because we talked for so long.
They were good conversations, carefree and open.
If all the teachers were that nice, it would be a good time.
One exception was Midnight. I didn't know what she had done to me, but I accepted it. At least that's what I tried to do.

The last box was up and I cleared out the old reference books on heroic history.
On almost every page I had stuck little colorful notes about my favorite heroes.
At the top of my list was All Might, but as close as he was, I felt uncomfortable talking to him.
As you know, you're not supposed to meet your idols. It never ended well.
The books were heavy, but I was able to support three at once on my left forearm and heave them up with a flourish. Unfortunately, I had miscalculated the height of the shelf.
I went up on my toes and pushed myself upwards, my fingers pressed firmly against the spines of the books, but there were still a few centimetres to go.
By now the books were wobbling menacingly in my hands and were about to hit me or fall to the floor when I felt Vlad's large, powerful hand wrapped around mine.
He carefully took the books and neatly put them on the shelf.
I felt the warmth of his chest against my back and gasped for air.
Wordlessly, I returned to my starting position and looked at the wall. My head seemed empty.
His warm breath on my neck made me shiver and I felt the heat in my head.
Did he realize what he had just triggered in me? Did he do it on purpose or was it due to the residual alcohol?
He no longer smelled of alcohol, but of the herbal tea I offered him a few hours ago.
I shook my head inwardly. I wasn't sure, but I hoped to get out of this situation.
Relationships between teachers were strictly forbidden and I hadn't even been here long. I didn't want to risk that.

I turned around, not expecting him to remain standing.
My breasts were now pressed against his and he looked at me with a penetrating gaze.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to get too close to you. But the books would have hit your head otherwise."
"It's all right, thank you. And no, no, I didn't mind. It was very nice-."
I realized what I had just said.
"-I'm glad you helped me."
I doubted that this would change the situation now.
His eyes sparkled and he leaned down towards me. He gently placed the index finger of his right hand under my chin and carefully pushed it up so that I was looking him straight in the eye.
His left arm wrapped around my lower back.
I wanted it, I wanted it so badly.
"We can't do this," I whispered.
"I know."
His lips drew closer to mine.
"I don't want you to get into trouble," he added and I opened my mouth in arousal as my hands rested on his hard chest and he pressed me closer.
"Then we should stop," I stammered quietly.
"Yes we should."
His right hand gripped my face and we both breathed shallowly. I could feel his arousal as he pressed us together.
We were only millimeters apart and yet worlds apart.
"I want to enjoy this moment," he breathed, watching my whole body tremble. We didn't kiss, but that small and brief moment beforehand kept tingling inside me.

As a rule, several sensory organs, as well as the imagination, lead to a person's arousal.
The skin, for example, is a general, external sensory organ that can activate sexual pleasure in the brain through its countless sensory nerve endings.
Even though we both felt pleasure and would have liked to go a step further, we finally broke away from each other and paused for a moment.
Vlad's look was so warm.
"I should go."
Hesitantly, I nodded and maintained eye contact. Even though we were aware that we liked each other, both physically and personally, we weren't taking any chances.
Relationships between teachers were taboo.
And we wanted to stick to that.
He looked out into the corridor, made sure he wasn't seen, winked at me again and then quietly closed the door.

I felt like I could breathe properly again and let myself fall onto my bed.
All I had left was the feeling and the thought:
'What if...'