Professor doesn't preach

The Storm

Reed couldn’t help but stare when Emma emerged from the bathroom, dressed in his oversized shirt and shorts. Her damp hair fell over her shoulders, framing her soft face. Her nose was slightly red from the cold, and despite everything, she looked radiant. His eyes lingered on her for a moment too long, and he felt something stir inside him—something he wasn’t supposed to feel.

Realizing he needed to distract himself, Reed turned on his heel and headed to the kitchen. “I’ll make some tea,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. He needed the distraction, something to keep his hands busy and his mind away from her.

A few moments later, he heard Emma’s soft footsteps behind him. “Can I help with anything?” she asked.

He didn’t turn around, afraid of what he might say if he looked at her. “No, just go sit in the hall,” he replied, his voice a little harsher than intended.

Emma didn’t argue. She nodded, though he didn’t see it, and went back to sit in the living room.

Once the tea was ready, Reed brought it over, placing the cups on the table between them. They sat in silence for a moment, sipping the hot liquid, the tension still thick between them. Emma, sensing the awkwardness, decided to break the silence.

“I have a doubt, actually,” she said, glancing at him. “Could you help me with this topic? It’s from your class, and I got stuck on it earlier.”

Reed raised an eyebrow but nodded, intrigued by her request. He stood up and moved to sit beside her, their shoulders nearly touching. As he explained the topic, his voice calm and patient, Emma found herself understanding the material easily.

“You know,” she said with a bright smile after he finished, “I was really stuck on this. Thank you so much.” Her eyes sparkled as she looked at him, her gratitude genuine.

Reed couldn’t help but smile back, his gaze softening as he met her eyes. For a brief moment, the tension between them seemed to dissolve, replaced by something lighter, more familiar.

But then Emma realized just how close they were sitting. The sudden awareness made her heart race, and she quickly stood up, flustered. “Let me take the tray,” she said, reaching for the cups.

In her haste, she twisted her ankle and stumbled. Reed reacted instantly, reaching out to catch her before she could fall. She landed in his lap, her body pressed against his as his hands instinctively held her—one arm around her waist, the other supporting her arm.

Their eyes met, and for a second, time seemed to stand still. Emma’s breath caught in her throat as she realized the position they were in, his hands firm yet gentle as they held her in place. Reed’s eyes were locked on hers, something unspoken passing between them.

Suddenly, Emma scrambled to her feet, her face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice shaky. “I’ll—um—I’ll just put these in the kitchen.” She quickly grabbed the tray and fled to the safety of the kitchen, her mind racing with confusion.

Reed stood up slowly, his eyes following her as she retreated. He could feel the tension building again, but this time, it was different. This time, it was undeniable.

Without thinking, he followed her into the kitchen. Emma was standing by the sink, her back to him, her hands gripping the counter as if trying to steady herself. Reed stepped closer, his presence looming just behind her.

Gently, he reached out and moved her damp hair from her back to the front, his fingers brushing against her skin. Emma froze, her heart pounding in her chest as she felt his breath near her ear.

“I’m always here for you,” Reed whispered, his voice low and soft. “If you ever have a doubt… just ask me.”

His words lingered in the air, heavy with meaning, and Emma felt her breath hitch. She could feel the warmth of his body behind her, his proximity making her head spin. She didn’t know how to respond, her mind torn between the unspoken connection between them and the boundaries that still existed.