You met Mr. Turner, your professor, on the train, and boundaries between you were never the same. What began as a chance encounter quickly spiralled into something much more complex.
More insight and warnings for each part over on my Tumblr @goblin...
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"Yes?" you said as you finally snapped out of the little bubble of thoughts that made you ignore the first three times he called your name.
You thought you recognised his voice, but you weren't quite sure, after all, you never really expected to see your professors outside in the 'real world', per se, as weird as that might sound. It was as if that invisible barrier broke and those two realities collided the moment you looked up and your eyes met his.
It was, of course, none other than...Mr. Turner...your favourite.
"I got the seat, uhm, there" he said, pointing at the empty window seat next to you.
"Oh! Yeah, yeah." you scrambled to move your bag from his place and almost started to get up to make space for him to walk through, but he stopped you.
"Don't worry, I'll just squeeze through." he told you as he saw you getting nervous, giving you a slight smile, just to be polite, you thought.
He looked a bit...dishevelled. His hair messy and pointing in all different directions, his eyes tired. He must've just woken up and come straight to the train station. He almost missed it too, getting on just as the train was about to leave.
Speaking of leaving, right as he was moving through the small space between, well, you, and the table separating the seats opposite, the train started moving, and he lost his balance, nearly falling on top of you if it weren't for the handle of your seat that he managed to grab just in time.
"Sorry" he murmured as he regained his composure and finally sat down next to you, fixing his brown leather bag neatly on the table by the window.
You smiled at him, though he didn't seem to notice, because as soon as he sat that bag down he scrambled to bring it back to his lap, searching for something he couldn't seem to find. You tried not to pry too much into the contents, instead bringing your focus back to the book in your hand you only now noticed you were holding way too tight, the pages almost breaking where your fingers were holding it open so you wouldn't lose the spot where you left off before he showed up.
You couldn't help yourself from glancing at him. It turned out he was looking for his sunglasses, slipping them on despite no sunshine seeping through the window that would warrant the need for them.
You continued to read, thinking he probably doesn't want to be bothered by a random student in his free time, but the words you kept reading over and over wouldn't register in your brain, your mind just being filled by thoughts of him. Where was he going? You stole another glance, noticing the way his gaze drifted out the window, lost in thought. What could he possibly be thinking about? Curiosity tugged at you, wondering what might be occupying his mind so deeply. Was it the weight of his responsibilities as a professor, or perhaps something more personal? You found yourself yearning to unravel everything about him.
