Monday mornings usually dragged on with the slow reluctance of a snooze button repeatedly hit. But today was different for Brielle. She woke up early, a surge of anticipation filling her as she dressed carefully, choosing an outfit that struck a balance between casual and put-together. It was silly, she knew—Dimitri had seen her in everything from pajamas to formal dresses by now—but today felt special. It was the first day she'd see him back in his element, teaching a full class with her among the students.
As Brielle walked into the lecture hall, the usual chatter of her classmates filled the air, their voices bouncing off the high ceilings. She spotted her friends, waving as she made her way over to her usual spot, trying to keep her expression neutral despite the excitement bubbling under the surface. Dimitri had asked her not to act differently in class, to keep things professional and under wraps, and she was determined to respect that. But it was hard, especially when every glance in his direction sent her heart racing.
When Dimitri walked in, the room seemed to shift. His presence was commanding, as always, and Brielle couldn't help but admire the way he carried himself with such confidence and ease. He greeted the class with his usual crisp tone, the subtle accent in his voice adding a unique charm that Brielle had grown to adore.
"Good morning, everyone," Dimitri began, setting his briefcase down and opening his laptop at the front desk. "Today, we're diving into the complexities of Russian literature's Silver Age. A period marked by both innovation and turbulence—a reflection of the societal upheavals of the time."
Brielle watched him as he spoke, his hands moving expressively, his passion for the subject clear in every word. It was moments like these that reminded her why she had fallen for him in the first place—not just because he was handsome or because of the thrill of their secret, but because he was brilliant, dedicated, and genuinely cared about what he taught.
"Brielle," Dimitri called out suddenly, his eyes meeting hers across the room, a small challenge twinkling in them. "Can you summarize the influence of symbolism during this era?"
Brielle blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the direct question. But she recovered quickly, her cheeks flushing as she stood up, determined not to disappoint him.
"Symbolism during the Silver Age of Russian literature was crucial in expressing the deeper, often darker aspects of the human psyche," she began, recalling the notes she'd pored over. "Writers like Blok and Bely used symbols to critique societal norms and explore themes of existential despair and hope. It was less about literal representation and more about evoking emotions and abstract ideas, often reflecting the instability and unrest of the time."
Dimitri nodded, a small, approving smile playing at his lips. "Exactly. The movement thrived on ambiguity and the power of suggestion, much like the era it emerged from. Well done, Brielle."
Her heart skipped a beat at his praise, and she quickly sat down, trying to suppress the giddy smile threatening to spread across her face. It was a simple compliment, one he'd given many students over the years, but to her, it felt like so much more.
As Dimitri continued the lecture, Brielle found herself completely absorbed, not just in the subject matter, but in him. She noticed the way he would occasionally glance her way, a brief flicker of warmth in his eyes that only she could decipher. It was a small reminder that, even in this sea of students, there was a silent understanding between them—one that no one else could see.
"Now," Dimitri said, wrapping up the lecture, "for your assignment, I'd like you to choose a work from this period and analyze the use of symbolism in relation to the historical context of its time. You'll present your findings in next week's seminar, and I expect thorough, insightful analysis."
There was a collective groan from the students, and Dimitri chuckled, shaking his head. "Complaining won't make the deadline disappear. You're capable of more than you think. Trust me."
Brielle scribbled down the details in her notebook, her mind already racing with ideas. She caught Dimitri's eye as he dismissed the class, and he gave her the smallest of nods—one that told her he was looking forward to seeing what she would come up with. She stayed in her seat until the room had nearly emptied, wanting just a moment alone with him.
Dimitri glanced around, ensuring the coast was clear before approaching her. "You did well today," he said softly, his voice laced with a pride that made her chest swell.
"Thanks," Brielle replied, her cheeks warming. "I really enjoyed the lecture. You make it so... engaging."
His eyes softened, and he stepped closer, his hand brushing hers briefly, a fleeting touch that sent a jolt of warmth through her. "I'm glad. It means a lot, hearing that from you."
They lingered there, caught in a moment that felt suspended in time. It was risky, and they both knew it, but the pull between them was undeniable. Brielle bit her lip, fighting the urge to close the distance and kiss him right then and there. But Dimitri, always the cautious one, stepped back slightly, his eyes scanning the room again.
"Meet me later?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "The usual spot?"
Brielle nodded, her heart fluttering at the thought of their stolen time together. "I'll be there."
With a final, lingering glance, Dimitri turned and walked back to his desk, his demeanor shifting back to the professional, detached professor the moment the next group of students began filing in. Brielle gathered her things, slipping out of the lecture hall with a small, secret smile.
Throughout the day, Brielle replayed the lecture in her mind, her thoughts drifting back to the way Dimitri had looked at her, the sound of his voice when he said her name. It was hard to concentrate on anything else, her mind constantly returning to the promise of seeing him later. It was a risk, but it was one she was willing to take.
Later that afternoon, Brielle found herself sitting in their hidden corner of the library, her heart racing as she waited for Dimitri. When he finally appeared, slipping into the seat across from her, she couldn't help but smile.
"Miss me already?" she teased, her voice light.
Dimitri chuckled, reaching across the table to take her hand in his. "More than you know."
They spent the rest of the afternoon tucked away in the quiet library, sharing whispers and secret smiles as they pretended to study. It was moments like these—simple, unremarkable to anyone else—that made their clandestine relationship feel worth every stolen moment and hidden glance.
Dimitri leaned closer, his thumb brushing the back of her hand. "You make me want to be better," he said softly, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that took her breath away.
Brielle squeezed his hand, her voice tender. "You already are. More than you think."
They sat there, savoring the quiet comfort of each other's presence, the rest of the world fading away. In these moments, it didn't matter that they had to keep their relationship a secret, or that the future was uncertain. What mattered was that they had found something real, something worth holding on to, no matter the risks.
And as they sat there, exchanging soft smiles and gentle touches, Brielle knew one thing for sure: she wouldn't trade this for anything. Not now, not ever.
