The Professor and I

1 - Introduction

I hate being held behind in class.

And what's more is that I can't help but hate my Professor.

He is annoyingly attractive, and always seems to pick on me. Whenever he has a question, he calls on me. Whenever he needs help sorting paperwork, he calls on me. While some might say that I'm just his favourite student, I'm clearly not, because he always has this hateful sort of look in his eyes. And he rarely ever makes eye contact with me too. But then, all the other girls giggle and laugh about how he constantly holds eye contact with them.

It infuriates me when he pays attention to the other girls in the class, because I can see his eyes wandering all over. Treating them like a map that he wants to etch in his mind.

Professor Dorian glares at me, like he always seems too.

"Do you know why you have been held behind?" He asks, his deep voice itching something in my brain.

I shake my head, of course I know why. I never finished the small poetry assignment, I had too much going on outside of school to work on it.

And surely this shit of a Professor knew that too.

"Mandy. I know you know why."

He crosses his arms, his tight blue shirt emphasising his biceps, his square glasses perched perfectly on his straight nose.

It isn't weird that I know all these details, no. It's not weird that I spend most of our class time staring at him, memorising his every feature.

I know I said I hate him, and I do-I really do, but I can't help but admire just how attractive he is. Ever since that one lesson when he cracked it.. Really cracked it. Students had repeatedly been coming in late to class over the few days prior, and he had had enough. I wasn't one of the students arriving late, however he still used all that anger and fury on me. But he had been wearing a shirt in the form of a t-shirt, not his usual long sleeve ones. He had been wearing his normal pants, and his tie had been slightly loosened, his hair a mess and his lips swollen.

I knew exactly who he had been with, and I couldn't help but find the sight of him... so fucking hot.

I wanted to be the cause of all that messiness, Professor Dorian-always organised, always keeping things in orderly fashion in folders. A mess, because of me.

But that will never happen, and if the glare he's giving me right now is nothing to prove it, i'm sure when he gives me detention it will.

He grunts, gaining my attention.

I shrug, "What? I'm a busy girl, I've got more on than this class you know."

"Like?" Professor Dorian raises an eyebrow.

"Hanging with friends, shopping for the formal, talking to boys."

A small, sly smile makes its way onto my face. Oh how I wish I could just tell him how hot he is, I'm sure he knows it. But.. somehow he carries himself like he isn't so sure. His attitude surely makes up for it though.

"Talking to boys?" His eyes are unreadable, but a smile appears, "Didn't think you had it in you, Mandy."

Oh god.

Even just the way he says my name, gives me butterflies, makes me tingle.

I cross my legs, my hands now fiddling with the ends of my hair, my school skirt creeping up. I've gotten told off for the length repeatedly throughout the school term, but I don't care. I look hot with it short and that's all that matters. With my dirty blonde hair and dull blue-grey eyes, some might say i'm a sight for sore eyes. And yes, I've gotten plenty of compliments whenever I've gone away. But Professor Dorian has never looked at me like he looks at others, and that just makes me feel insecure about myself. Makes me doubt myself that perhaps I'm not pretty or hot, or even just sexy.