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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The morning light poured into Alex's kitchen, scattering rays across the room, casting a warm, golden hue that brought a sense of serenity to the space. The small table by the window, where the two of you sat, seemed almost magical in the soft glow. The sunlight filtered through the leaves outside, creating a delicate pattern of lights and shadows that danced on the walls, adding to the peaceful ambiance of the morning.
Alex sat across from you, shirtless, wearing a pair of faded shorts that had clearly seen better days. They were frayed at the edges, and the colour had long since faded from repeated washings, but they were his favourite pair, so comfortable that he refused to part with them.
He'd gotten a haircut a few days ago, and his hair still bore the uneven signs of the fresh trim. The sides were too short, while the top was a messy tumble that defied any attempt to tame it. You had to suppress a smile at how it made him look slightly boyish, though no less handsome.
He was an effortless vision of rugged charm, his skin glowing warmly in the morning light, muscles relaxed, exuding that casual confidence that drew you in. As he ate a piece of toast, you couldn't help but watch him, enamoured by the simplicity of the moment. There was something so special to you about seeing him in this unguarded state, doing nothing more than enjoying his breakfast.
His eyes flickered up to meet yours, catching you in the act of staring. A small smile played on his lips, and you felt a blush creep up your cheeks. You took a sip of your tea to cover your embarrassment, the warmth of the drink soothing your nerves. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with the sounds of the morning. A bird chirping outside, the distant hum of early traffic, the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.
Despite basically living in the same house, as you'd spent nearly every night here for months now, you didn't often get moments like this. One of you always left before the other, rushing off to classes or some errands, rarely getting the chance to savour the quiet intimacy of a shared morning. It was nice, really nice, to finally have him all to yourself, without the usual interruptions or the ticking clock pushing you apart.
He cherished these rare, unhurried mornings. Watching you across the table, sipping your tea with that slight smile playing on your lips, he felt a sense of peace that was hard to come by before. He was used to the constant movement, the early mornings where he left you sleeping soundly, or the late nights when he'd slip into bed after you'd already drifted off. But this. This was different.
He admired the way the morning light highlighted your features, casting a soft glow that made you look ethereal. You were beautiful, always, but there was something about the quiet moments that made you seem even more so to him. Maybe it was the way you looked at him, with such genuine affection, or the way you seemed to savour every moment, as if you were storing them away for the days when life would inevitably get in the way.
