ILLICIT AFFAIRS | WLW

Chapter Two.

𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟗𝐓𝐇, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟗

The young student began her walk back to the Humanities and Languages building, her heart pounding so intensely it echoed in her ears. As she navigated down the quiet corridor lined with offices, her eyes anxiously searched for the nameplate she had been searching for:

Office 305

Catherine Kingsley, PhD

Head of Languages Department

With a resigned sigh, the blonde absentmindedly ran a hand through her hair, trying to quell the nervous energy coursing through her. A storm of emotions churned within her, conflicting thoughts stirring up a deep-seated fear.

Momentarily distracted from her anxiety, the muffled sounds from the other side of the door sparked her curiosity instead. The conversation grew louder, the voices of two women becoming increasingly distinct – one she identified as Ms. Kingsley's, of course. Suddenly, the wooden door swung open, causing Blair to stumble back slightly in surprise.

"Gracie!" Catherine's voice called out to this strange brunette, her sigh carrying a mix of exasperation and fatigue.

Anderson's eyes focused intently on the young woman Catherine had addressed, presumable named Gracie. She scrutinized the brunette, silently noting the redness in her cheeks – anger? Sadness? Frustration? Gracie's expression was utterly inscrutable.

Gracie held her hand up to silence Catherine and instead trained her gaze to Blair, scanning her from head to toe before scoffing, "God. Good luck."

A deepened confusion etched itself onto Blair's face, her brows furrowing while her mouth twisted into a small frown. Good luck? Oh god. With what?

The blonde watched as the brunette hurried down the hallway, her footsteps heavy with frustration. Taking a deep exhale, Blair redirected her attention to the professor's office, unaware of Catherine's looming presence until they nearly collided.

"Miss Anderson," Catherine nodded, holding the door open and gesturing inside, "Come,"

Blair's gaze lifted to meet Catherine's, a small, faint smile of acknowledgement ghosting at her lips. She stepped wearily into the office, her eyes immediately scanning the room as she began to take in her surroundings.

Bookshelves lined the walls filled with rows upon rows of language books, from Spanish to French, even a section dedicated to the teaching of Mandarin. Frame certificates adorned the walls, proudly displaying the woman's multiple degrees and doctorates, showcasing her impressive academic history.

The centre of the room was dominated by a large mahogany desk, its polished surface almost entirely clear of clutter except for a sleek laptop, a brass desk lamp and a single framed photograph depicted a younger Catherine, smiling brightly surrounded by peers and colleagues, presumably from a successful scholarly event.

To the side of the desk and beneath a large window that let in ample natural light, a small but elegant sofa upholstered in a soft muted grey fabric sat against the wall. A couple of colourful throw plush colours added a touch of personality to an otherwise professional space; inviting yet firm, suggesting it was rarely used but always ready for an unexpected guest. A low coffee table in front of the sofa held a neatly arranged stack of academic journals.

Blair couldn't help but notice the scent of old books and fresh coffee that permeated the room, adding to its scholarly charm and exuding an air of quiet authority and intellectual rigour. Yet she also appreciated its balance with comfort, a light scent of peony and blush wafting through the air, hinting at Catherine's penchant for a fresh, floral aroma.