ILLICIT AFFAIRS | WLW

Sparks Fly

Tuesday mornings were always quieter than most, and certainly easier for Blair. The workload was lighter, and she only had one of Catherine's lectures to attend: "Cultural Transitions in Society". It was possibly her favourite – not only because it was spoken in English, making it less of a brain workout than her Italian or Spanish classes, but also because she'd be with her two closest friends, Thomas and Ann.

Blair stood in front of her mirror, adjusting the oversized cream-hued knit sweater that hung loosely over her slim frame. Beneath it, a blue-and-white striped collard shirt peeked out and it was layered with a pair of her favourite dad-jeans.

Upon arrival, the campus bathed in a soft early autumn light that felt calm and almost peaceful. The weather was crispy, and the cool air brushed gently against her cheeks as the trio made their way across the quad and towards the humanities building.

As she fastened her leather bag over her shoulder, her mind unbiddenly wandered back to yesterday's Spanish lecture. More so, the events that followed shortly after. Kingsley's phone number still sat in her desk drawer, untouched, but enticing. There was something about the way the professor carried herself – confident and poised, that Blair found attractive. Enviable, or attractive – she couldn't decide. But that doesn't mean anything, Blair reminded herself.

Trying to shake her thoughts, she gave her friend Ann a light nudge and asked, "Did you get your assignment done?"

Ann gave a small groan. "Barely. I stayed up way too late finishing it. The last thing I want is Kingsley marking it like I don't know what I'm doing."

Blair laughed. "I bet you did fine!"

"No, I'm sure you did fine, you're her favourite." Ann said with a mischievous grin, "She's always looking at you."

Blair flushed at the comment, though she quickly brushed it off with a shrug. "She looks at everyone. You're just too busy daydreaming."

Thomas chuckled, adjusting his backpack strap. "Well, at least the lecture is in English today. That'll give our brains a break from trying to translate every word."

Blair smiled, grateful for the shift.

As they entered the lecture hall, Blair immediately scanned the room, her gaze landing on Professor Kingsley at the front of the room. She appeared deep in thought, her eyes scanning the room as students shuffled in.

She was dressed immaculately in a form-fitting black turtleneck, tucked into a pencil skirt that clung to her frame and emphasised her figure. Her red hair was down today, loose curls softly framing her sharp jawline and high cheekbones. She looked striking, composed and completely untouchable. She exuded an air of cool confidence as she flicked through her lecture notes at the desk, now completely absorbed in her preparation. Yet Blair silently hoped the woman would look up; wishing to see that fleeting glimmer of something in her eyes whenever Blair was around.

Blair found herself stealing as many glances at her professor as she could as they settled into her seats. She tried to focus on her conversation with Ann and Thomas, who were mindlessly rattling on about some event happing over this weekend. But Blair didn't care, she couldn't care.

For the first time, Blair found herself really noticing the professor, not just as an authority figure, but as a woman. She'd always admired her professor's intellect, her wit, her control of the classroom – but today, her attention wandered to other things. The sharpness of her jawline, the slight curve of her lips, the way she moved her hands elegantly across the pages of her notice. There was something utterly magnetic about her. Blair swallowed, feeling an odd tug in her chest.