The Law Student

Part 7

After thinking about Cillian all night, on the following morning, at around 9 o'clock, on your day off from work, you found yourself sitting in your favorite coffee shop, sipping a cup of coffee and skimming through some legal theory, desperately attempting to focus on the work at hand.

However, try as you might, you couldn't shake Cillian's face and the worry lines that creased his forehead from your mind, prompting you to do the polite thing and check on him. After all, he had taken quite a beating for you and, if anything, you considered it necessary to at least make some form of contact or another to ensure that he was recovering.

In addition, you felt the need to talk to him, to get your stories straight as, during last night's incident, a lot of students and bystanders saw what could be perceived as inappropriate behavior between a teacher and a student.

Thus, as you sipped your lukewarm coffee, you contemplated driving to his house in Douglas to see how he was doing. Being his teacher and all, you did not consider this to be inappropriate, but rather considerate in light of what had occurred.

As you arrived at Cillian's house, which was a stunning but modest three-bedroom residence, you felt butterflies churning in your stomach, wondering how he was doing and if you were overstepping any boundaries. But nonetheless, you screwed up your courage and knocked on the heavy wooden door.

After a moment's hesitation, you heard a young woman's muffled voice call out, "Coming!" and the door swung open to reveal a young girl, no older than 15, standing there in a pair of worn-out jeans and a tank top. She looked at you curiously. "Can I help you?" she asked politely.

"Um, yes, hi," you smiled at her nervously. "I'm actually here to see Cillian. Is he home?"

The girl's expression softened. "I think he is still asleep. Hang on," the young girl said before calling out his name. "Cillian! There is someone here to see you!" she shouted , cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice while his brother Paddy scooted past with a bowl of cereal in his hands.

"Oh hey, the law school teacher," Paddy greeted, nodding in your direction. "Cills is still passed out in bed," he told you and you quickly glanced at your watch, seeing that it was almost 11 o'clock. "Maybe I should come back another time," you suggested politely before explaining to Paddy that you just came to check on him.

"No no, wait, I'll go wake him up," Paddy said, before disappearing behind a closed door, leaving you to wait patiently in the hallway and, minutes later, Cillian appeared.

His hair was tousled, and his eyes were half-closed, still adjusting to the brightness of the hallway. "Y/N?" he murmured, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "I mean, Miss Y/LN," he corrected himself and even despite his slightly disheveled appearance, Cillian managed to look incredibly attractive, causing your heart to race a little faster than usual.

He wore a pair of grey sweatpants and a worn our Frank Zappa t-shirt, accompaied by a pair of grandfather slippers.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, scrubbing his hand over his face, and trying to mask his surprise.

"I just wanted to check on you," you told him, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as his eyes locked on yours. "I hope I didn't wake you up," you added nervously.

Cillian blinked and shook his head. "No, no, it's fine," he murmured, taking a step closer to you. "I'm just surprised to see you here," he told you, silently inviting you into his home.

"No, I won't come in. I just wanted to make sure you are okay after last night's events, you know," you replied, trying to keep things professional despite the intimate scenario.

Cillian nodded, understanding your apprehension. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just a little bruised and sore," he said, gesturing towards his face. "But I'll live."

"Good. That's good," you responded, smiling softly at him. "And listen, Cillian, I can't pretend that last night didn't happen. People saw us together, some might assume that there's something inappropriate going on between us. We need to establish a clear boundary, to clarify some facts," you explained, your voice steady and calm, belaying the turmoil that bubbled within you as you spoke quietly so that no one else could hear you.

Cillian nodded solemnly. "Relax. If someone asks, I will tell them that I just did the right thing, you know, looking after my professor in a time of distress," Cillian assured you, his voice carrying a sense of sincerity and conviction. Despite your efforts to maintain a professional demeanor, a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth at Cillian's earnestness.

"Thanks Cillian, I appreciate that. Honestly, I do," you replied, trying to put your thoughts into words just as you saw Cillian's mother walk into the house through the backdoor. She carried a bag of groceries in her hand, eying you curiously for a second before a warm smile lit up her face.

"Oh hello there, dear," she greeted kindly as she walked towards Cillian, setting the groceries down on the kitchen counter and greeting him with a spontaneous hug and kiss, causing Cillian to blush. "Good morning sleepyhead," she told him affectionately as she ruffled his hair.

"Mum, this is my law school professor, Miss Y/LN," Cillian introduced, gesturing towards you still standing in the hallway, keep watching the wholesome interaction between mother and son with a small chuckle.

"Oh, what a pleasure to meet you," she said, walking up to you with her hand extended, which you shook politely. "I hope my boy isn't in trouble," she added, casting a concerned glance towards Cillian, who shook his head quickly.

"No, Mum, I promise. I just had a bit of a run-in with someone at the pub last night," Cillian explained hurriedly, avoiding eye contact with his mother.

"Well, I'm glad you're safe, dear.

No harm done, I hope?" Cillian's mother asked, her gaze shifting between Cillian and you.

"No, ma'am, everything is fine. I just stopped by to check on Cillian after that incident last night. He helped me out when I got in trouble, so I just came by to thank him and to make sure he was doing okay," you replied, feeling a pang of guilt for worrying his mother.

"Oh, that. Yes, Cillian mentioned something about it. Terrible, isn't it?" she said, before turning her attention back to Cillian. "I am glad that nothing worse happened. You never know these days . There are so many bad people out there," Cillian's mother said, shaking her head in dismay.

"Yes, unfortunately, that's true," you agree, feeling a sense of sadness wash over you. Despite the initial reason for your visit, you cannot help but be drawn into the homey atmosphere that Cillian's family exudes.

"Well, I best be off. I have a lot of work to catch up on," you announce, reluctantly tearing yourself away from the scene before you.

"Don't you want to stay for a cup of tea?" Cillian's mother invited warmly, her voice full of kindness.

You hesitated for a moment, torn between your responsibilities and the desire to spend more time in this cozy environment. "I really should get going," you said, with a hint of regret in your voice. You turned to Cillian, "But thank you again for last night. I won't forget it."

Cillian smiled, a twinkle of appreciation in his eyes.

"I am sure he won't either," Paddy chuckled as he overheard the tail end of the conversation, causing Cillian to mumble the words "ejiit" under his breath.

"Well, I should be heading off then," you announced, eager to leave before the conversation turned uncomfortable.

"Thanks again for stopping by, Miss Y/LN," Cillian called out as you made your way down the path towards your car.

"No problem, Cillian," you replied, throwing a final wave over your shoulder.

As you drove away, your thoughts turned to Cillian and the uneasy feelings that surfaced as a result of the incident.