Between the desks

Chapter 62

Narrative POV

The bass of the club thudded in Elizabeth's chest as she stood frozen, her mind racing to process the scene she had just interrupted. She had only wanted to grab her jacket from the coat check—hadn't even noticed the bustling crowd in the hallway—until the unmistakable sight of Amren, lips locked with some stranger, caught her completely off guard.

Amren was the first to react, her eyes widening as she pulled away from the girl, who quickly slipped away, sensing the sudden tension that had charged the air. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved, the low hum of the club music amplifying the awkward silence surrounding them.

"Professor Olsen," Amren blurted out, her voice rising in pitch with shock, a faint blush creeping up her neck as she straightened her clothes. "I didn't... I didn't know you'd be here."

Elizabeth swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She was still trying to shake off the image of Amren pressed against that girl. Her student. Kissing someone. Not that it should have mattered—it shouldn't have affected her at all, and yet here she was, feeling uncomfortably flustered.

"I didn't expect to see you here either, Amren," Elizabeth said, the words slipping out stiffer than she intended. She adjusted her jacket over her arm, an awkward excuse to do something with her hands, desperately trying to compose herself.

Amren shifted, biting her lip. "I... I was just grabbing something out of my jacket," she mumbled, her usual confidence seemingly deflated. "And then... you know... uh—"

"Yes, I saw," Elizabeth interrupted, feeling a sharp pang in her chest that she quickly tried to ignore. She cleared her throat, struggling to regain control of the moment. She was Amren's professor, after all. This was just an awkward encounter. Nothing more.

Amren fidgeted, clearly unsure of what to say next. She ran a hand through her hair, her cheeks flushed—not just from the alcohol but from the sheer discomfort radiating between them now. "I didn't mean for you to see that," she finally admitted, her voice softer now.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, keeping her tone neutral. "It's a club, Amren. People kiss in clubs. You're not doing anything wrong."

"I know, I know..." Amren's gaze dropped to the floor, the tension thickening between them. "It's just... weird seeing you here. I wasn't expecting you."

Elizabeth sighed, attempting to sound unaffected. "I'm allowed to be here, too, you know. I'm not just your professor 24/7."

"Right. Of course," Amren replied quickly, nodding, though her expression seemed anxious, as if she cared what Elizabeth thought. "I just—I mean, I'm not breaking any rules or anything, am I?"

Elizabeth blinked, surprised by the question. She hadn't even thought about it like that, and yet the way Amren's voice wavered—like she cared what Elizabeth thought—made her pause. "No, you're not," Elizabeth said softly, her voice gentler this time. "You're allowed to live your life."

Amren looked up, her eyes meeting Elizabeth's, and for a moment, Elizabeth felt a connection, something fragile but genuine that made her chest tighten. It was a moment too long, a beat too awkward.

"I should get back," Amren mumbled, breaking the silence, though she didn't move.

Elizabeth nodded, feeling the need to escape the situation herself, but her feet felt heavy, rooted to the spot. "Yeah... you should."

The awkwardness hung in the air like a dense fog, both of them clearly unsure of what to say next. Amren shuffled her feet, glancing toward the exit and then back at Elizabeth. "Do you, uh, want to get a drink or something?" she asked suddenly, as if the words had slipped out before she could stop them.