Knock Again, Professor [GL• #1]

Chapter 25

WARNING ⚠️

I awoke the following morning to the welcome aroma of lavender filling the air, an odor that seemed to be a soft prod from a remote recollection. My head throbbed, a persistent reminder of the previous night's indulgences.

It took me agonizingly slowly to force my eyes open, but the world around me was still a fuzzy haze, though I know where I am. The warm, inviting ambiance, the soft, refined décor, all directed, if I'm not wrong. I was in Ma'am Fernandez's residence. The acknowledgement swept over me like a wave, blended with the pounding in my temples, and I couldn't help but experience a reaction of relief and curiosity regarding how I had wound up in her residence.

I was still hungover, and it was blatantly evident through the throbbing pain in my head. Why did I even get so drunk? I couldn't help but scold myself, wondering how stupid I had been. The remorse ate away at me, and I berated myself mentally for the stupid mistakes of the night before.

What in the world had gotten into me to be so irresponsible? It had been so obvious yesterday, in cold sunlight, that I had rushed and used not one ounce of common sense.

In the middle of my trying to recall what had happened last night, the door of the room suddenly opened. I wasn't even surprised, when I saw the women I was trying to avoid. it was my professor who walked in. Despite my usual reluctance to give her any praise, I found myself unable to look away from her natural beauty.

She wore a simple white dress that highlighted her elegance, and her straight hair fell smoothly around her face, perfectly framing her features. She held a cup of coffee in her hand as she walked gracefully toward me, each step calm and composed. The simplicity of her appearance only added to her charm, making it hard not to admire her even more.

I looked at her plainly as she handed me the cup of coffee. Composing myself, I noticed her intent gaze fixed on me. I raised my left eyebrow, silently questioning her. She crossed her arms, still staring at me. "What?!" I asked, trying not to sound awkward.

She sat down beside me, and I was taken aback when she gently tucked my hair behind my ear. Her touch was surprisingly tender, contrasting sharply with the stern look in her eyes. "Who told you to get drunk, you brat?!" she demanded in a furious tone, her voice rising slightly with each word. I could feel the intensity of her disapproval, and it left me speechless for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Her sudden shift from gentleness to anger was making me unconsciously nervous, and I struggled to gather my thoughts under her piercing gaze.

"Why do you care?!" I fired back, giving her my usual cold attitude. But it seemed like she wasn't affected at all. She maintained her furious look, as if she was about to scold me at any moment.

"If your friend hadn't accidentally called Miss Lopez in her drunken state, we wouldn't have known you were there. Why did you even go to my bar, huh?!" she said, her voice tinged with anger. I gulped, hearing the concern in her tone while she still looked at me intently.

Her bar? She owns the SLF Resto Bar? Oh, right, I guess it's not so surprising after all. The name should have tipped me off immediately, the initials are a dead giveaway: Samara Lewis Fernandez. It all makes sense now. The elegance and class of the place, the meticulous attention to detail-everything about it screamed her style and personality. I couldn't believe I hadn't made the connection sooner. It was as if all the pieces of the puzzle had suddenly fallen into place.

"Why do you care?!" I responded coldly.

"Because I love you, and I care about you!" she said, making me look at her in disbelief.

I smiled wickedly at her. "Really? I don't believe in your so-called love anymore. The moment you left me dumbfounded and hopeless during my darkest days, I stopped believing in love. So don't you dare say those words to me again, because I'm tired of hearing them from you!" I said, my voice was dripping with bitterness. My mind raced back to those painful memories, and the resentment I felt came rushing back. Her words felt like empty promises, and I couldn't help but let my anger and hurt spill over.