Need A Coffee Miss Hughes? (WLW)

CHAPTER 6

"Good morning, Miss," I greet the woman who has captured my heart over the past three weeks. She looks up from the stack of papers she's reviewing, her eyebrows furrowing in surprise. "What brings you here so early?" she asks, glancing at the clock on the back wall of the classroom, which shows it's barely past seven thirty. I shrug. "Didn't get much sleep last night," I reply, shifting on my feet and trying to catch a glimpse of the papers, hoping they aren't the assignments we turned in before the weekend. The classroom is quiet and still, the sunlight just beginning to filter through the windows, casting long shadows on the floor.

"How come you didn't get much sleep? It was the weekend. Were you out messing about?" she asks, curiosity filling her voice.

"By joking about, do you mean out drinking and hanging with people? Nah, I wasn't. I swear down," I say, placing my palm on my chest to show I'm serious.

She sighs. "Alright, fine, whatever. Just sit down and don't bother me," she says, going back to the pile of papers she was checking.

"Yes miss." I nod and head over to a seat. 

As she goes through the papers, I can't help but watch her. Creepy much? Absolutely not.

I watch her face as it shifts into a serious expression, though not the kind of serious she wears all the bloody time. Her hair cascades down her shoulders, one side elegantly tucked behind her ear. Her eyebrows knit together again, her jaws clenching intermittently, her breathing steady. And then I can't help but notice her attire: her shirt with the top two buttons undone, sleeves casually rolled up, I swear I could catch a glimpse of a tattoo peak through her right arm, her right hand adorned with three rings, each looking outrageously expensive. On her left hand, two more rings, equally lavish. She's absolutely stunning. It's mental how she's a teacher.

"Eve, I can feel you staring." My jaw? Dropped. That sounded proper hot. Since when was her voice so deep, not manly deep, it's that sexy woman voice. And bloody hell, she said EVE.

I'm so in shock, I'm saying "bloody" too much.

Ms. Hughes looks up towards me, her gaze piercing. "Eve," she says with a hint of authority, her tone commanding attention.

"Uhhh, yeah?" I respond, ignoring what she said before.

She sighs, "Nothing." and she goes back to checking those stupid papers. 

"Why are you here early? And how come you don't have any coffee today?" I asked her, making it clear that I wasn't going to leave her alone.

She scoffs, "I work here, remember? And these papers aren't going to correct themselves. Plus, the coffee shop was closed," she says, answering both of my questions in one go. This is a surprising change; usually, she would only give a brief response to one question or ignore them altogether. Well, that's progress. Maybe she's starting to open up a bit more. Haha.

"Why was the coffee shop—oh, right, it opens around 7:30," I say, suddenly recalling the coffee shop's hours as if I don't go there every day.

"Can I ask you a question?" I asked, resting my chin on my hand, which was propped up on the table.She sighed, "You've already asked me two, but sure," she said, not looking up as she continued to correct the papers in front of her.

"What's your favourite snack?" I ask her genuinely curious, and also trying to keep the conversation going.

She looks up from her papers, her expression a mix of exasperation and amusement, and rolls her eyes ever so slightly, forming a faint smirk. "And here I thought you had a genuine question," she quips, her tone tinged with playful sarcasm. "It's a good sandwich," she adds, almost as an afterthought, before returning her attention to the stack of papers in front of her. Despite her apparent annoyance, she still indulges me with an answer. It's a rare moment of interaction with her, making me feel like I've stumbled upon a stroke of good luck today. Normally, getting her to engage in any sort of conversation feels like pulling teeth, so this feels like a small victory.