ILLICIT AFFAIRS | WLW

Imgonnagetyouback

𝐀𝐍: Hi again! This is probably the longest chapter, but I couldn't decide where to split it into two. I hope you guys enjoy this more than the last one.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the campus courtyard, where students filtered in and out of buildings, laughter and chatter filling the cool autumn air. Blair Anderson moved through the throng of people, keeping her head down, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

A couple of weeks has passed since she had saw Catherine outside of her office with Grace, her lips curling around that name – Gracie – with a softness Blair had never heard before. A couple of weeks since the realisation had struck her with brutal clarity: she wasn't the first student that Catherine had charmed, and she wasn't special. Not in the way she had foolishly hoped to be.

Blair had walked away that day, her heard a mess of confusion and betrayal, and in the days that followed, she convinced herself she was over it. Over Catherine. She had thrown herself into other distractions, namely Thomas. It was easy at first, almost effortless. She let herself slip into a casual routine with him, a pattern that had quickly become familiar, comforting in its simplicity. The attraction had always been there, more so from his side, simmering in the background of their friendship. After that first night, when she'd gone to him out of desperation, Blair had woken with a pit of regret deep in her stomach. But instead of cutting ties with him, she had let it happen again. And again. A pattern of physical release, if nothing else, something to help her push Catherine out of her mind. Like a way to forget.

It was supposed to help her forget. She thought it was working, too. At least, that's what she told herself on the nights when she fell into bed beside Thomas, a warm body she could cling to, a distraction she could drown herself. But Blair quickly learned that forgetting wasn't so easy.

The truth was, she wasn't getting over Catherine. Not really, not truly. No matter how many times she told herself she was, no matter how many times she surrendered her body to Thomas. It was more subtle after the first time – a fleeting memory of Catherine's voice, the faintest echo of the way her skin had tingled under Catherine's touched. But as the weeks passed, it became more frequent. Their smallest of encounters became more consuming.

Just as she neared her intimate edge, her mind would betray her, and she would see Catherine instead of Thomas, hear her low, teasing laugh. Thomas, of course, never noticed. Or if he did, he didn't comment. He seemed content with the arrangement, with the way Blair showed up at his apartment late at night, stayed for a few hours, and then left without any promises of more. He never pressed her for anything deeper, at least he hadn't so far. And Blair told herself that was exactly what she needed—something simple, uncomplicated. Something that wasn't Catherine.

And yet, Catherine lingered in her thoughts. No matter how much she tried to avoid her, the woman still found her way in. During lectures, Blair kept her gaze firmly on her notes, never once letting her eyes drift toward Catherine at the front of the room. When they had their private study sessions, Blair kept her answers short, professional, and left the moment their time was up, barely giving Catherine a chance to speak. She had built a wall around herself, hoping it would be enough to keep Catherine out. She had made herself a ghost in Catherine's life, present but distant, untouchable.

Inside her office, Catherine Kingsley sat at her desk, staring blankly at the papers in front of her. It was futile trying to work, not when her mind was consumed by the constant thrum of frustration and regret. The last couple of weeks had been a waking nightmare, every day more unbearable than the last. She couldn't stop thinking about Blair—how distant she had become, how she no longer looked Catherine's way during lectures, how their once-close study sessions had turned into clinical, tense exchanges devoid of the quiet intimacy they had once shared.