Part 8

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The following week, you returned to the lecture hall, armed with fresh coffee and a renewed sense of purpose following two days off.

The students trickled in one by one, filling the lecture hall with a low buzz of chatter. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the hour ahead. Just as you were about to begin, Cillian walked in.

Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes met his. He wore a simple white shirt that contrasted with the dark blue of his eyes, making them appear more vivid and intense than ever. A lock of his wavy hair fell over his forehead, adding to his boyish charm. He nodded at you, offering a small smile as he made his way to an empty seat in the front row.

You started the lecture, feeling a nervous tremor in your voice and, throughout the lecture, Cillian raised his hand a few times, really making an effort that morning.

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest every time he looked at you and engaged in a discussion and you soon struggled to focus , your mind wandering off into a world full of longing and desire.

From time to time, you caught yourself staring at him, noticing every little detail about him, from the freckles on the back of his neck to the small scar above his right eyebrow.

A fierce blush heated your cheeks whenever you realized that you had been caught staring, but Cillian just gave you a playful wink before turning back to the front to continue diligently taking notes.

Before you knew it, class was over and you dismissed your students with a fervent sigh of relief.

You busied yourself with gathering your notes and packing up your belongings, trying to avoid Cillian's gaze as he lingered in his seat. But as you lifted your gaze to the lecture hall door, you noticed him getting up and walking towards you, a determined look in his eyes.

"Excuse me, Miss Y/LN," he said, stopping just short of your desk. "Can I have a word with you? In your office, maybe? Somewhere private."

You hesitated before nodding and gesturing for him to follow you out of the lecture hall. Your heart raced as you walked down the hallway, trying to ignore the heat that crept up your neck. Once inside your cramped office, you closed the door behind him, turning to face him.

"What can I do for you, Cillian?" You asked, placing your hands on your desk and trying to maintain a semblance of professionalism. But the way his eyes locked onto yours made it difficult to stay in control.

Cillian took a deep breath before speaking. "Why did you come over the other day? To my house?" Cillian finished, his voice wavering slightly as he awaited your response. You took a deep breath, trying to quell the fluttering in your chest. "I wanted to check on you after what happened at the pub. We had quite a scene there, and I thought it would be best if I could confirm that you were alright," you explained, keeping your tone measured and professional.

Cillian studied you for a moment, his eyes searching for any hint of untruthfulness or impropriety. "Is that all?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You hesitated for a moment before answering.

"Well, I also wanted to make sure that there were no rumors or misunderstandings about us, given that we had been seen together in such a provocative situation," you admitted, feeling the need to be completely honest with him.

"You worry too much, Miss Y/LN," Cillian said with a small smile, taking a step closer to you. "And to tell you the truth, I was kinda hoping that you came to see me because, I don't know...," Cillian trailed off, his voice lowering to a husky whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "Maybe you came by to see me because you couldn't stop thinking about me."

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