Miss O'Connell | B.E

Ⅶ

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Divine sat alone in the cavernous library. The grand space lit with an amber tone from the chandeliers that dangled like ornate jewels from the high, vaulted ceiling. Shadows danced across the dark oak bookshelves, which stretched upwards like ancient sentinels, their heights accessible only by the creaky, rolling ladders tucked away at their bases.

The library, with its velvet-clad armchairs and deep maroon drapes, of opulent nostalgia, the grandeur of a bygone era. The walls were adorned with large, faded canvases depicting historical battles. Each nook and cranny, with its own cozy alcove.

As Divine leaned over her math book, the soft scratch of her pen was the only sound punctuating the heavy silence. Her brow was furrowed in intense concentration on the equations on the page. The setting sun dragged long, lazy beams through the high windows,painting the room in golden colors that slowly deepened into twilight. Soon, the teachers would begin their rounds, gently ushering students back to their dorms. But for now, Divine was lost in her world of numbers.

She sighed, flipping to the next page. The events of that day in detention replayed in her mind, Miss O'Connell's frustration, the way she leaned over her desk, the way her milky skin felt against Divine's fingers, soft almost fragile. Divine couldn't shake the memory, how the moment had slowly turned to something more complicated.

Divine glanced around, making sure no one was near. She was alone. She pulled out a piece of paper. It wasn't math notes or even the mysteries of the school she'd been obsessed with. Instead, it was a letter—a letter she had no intention of ever delivering.

Dear Miss O'Connell,

She stared at the words, her pen hovering over the page. She didn't know what to write, didn't know how to explain what she was feeling. She didn't even know the woman's name for god's sake. Instead, she scribbled them out, frustrated with herself. 

"Stupid," she muttered under her breath, crumpling the paper and tossing it aside. She forced her focus back onto her math, pushing all thoughts of Miss O'Connell away. But it was no use. The teacher was under her skin, and no amount of math problems could change that.

As she flipped through her textbook, Divine's gaze lingered on the copy of the same book that had tripped up Miss O'Connell in class. She smiled to herself, remembering how flustered her teacher had gotten. It was kind of cute, in a way.

Don't fall for her you idiot, she's your teacher.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft creak of the grand library doors. Divine's gaze snapped up, and she instinctively hid the crumpled letter beneath her math book, her heart suddenly racing. The figure that entered was unmistakable—Miss O'Connell.

She was like a breath of fresh air in the sad grand room, her jet-black hair cascading down in soft waves, framing her face with a delicate charm. Her petite frame moved gracefully across large space, and as Divine's eyes locked onto her every move, everything else seemed to fade away. 

Miss O'Connell's presence was magnetic, and even in the stillness of the library, she seemed to command the space. As she wandered between the rows of books, staring up at the tall rows of shelves, Divine could focus on nothing but her.

Divine held her breath, praying that her teacher wouldn't notice her. But as fate would have it, Miss O'Connell's eyes landed on her almost immediately, and a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she made her way over to Divine's table.