Forbidden Pages

Chapter 3: Underneath the Surface

Emma entered Professor Monroe's class the next day, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nerves. She'd spent the whole night replaying their conversation at the coffee shop, his words and expressions lingering in her mind. Now, seeing him in front of the classroom, all professional in his crisp jacket and with that serious, thoughtful look in his eyes, she almost felt as though she'd imagined the connection between them.

But the moment he glanced her way, a flicker of recognition flashed across his face. It was brief, almost imperceptible, but it was enough to send her pulse racing. Emma dropped her gaze quickly, focusing on her notes, trying to steady herself. She had to keep things professional, she reminded herself. He was her professor. Nothing had actually happened between them—yet.

Class started, and Ryland fell into his usual rhythm, moving between lecturing and asking questions, his voice smooth and engaging as he explained the intricacies of Gothic literature. Normally, Emma loved his classes. He had a way of making even the driest subjects seem fascinating, pulling her into the text with his energy and insight.

Today, though, it was nearly impossible to concentrate. She could feel his presence more acutely than ever, as if there was a thread tying them together, pulling her attention back to him over and over again. She found herself studying the way he moved, the way he gestured as he spoke, even the way he ran a hand through his hair when he paused to think. Every glance he cast her way felt charged, like they were sharing a secret no one else in the room could see.

Halfway through class, Ryland posed a question about the symbolism in Wuthering Heights, his gaze sweeping over the room. "How does Brontë use the moors as a metaphor for Heathcliff and Catherine's relationship?"

Emma hesitated, glancing around to see if anyone else would answer. But when no one spoke up, she took a breath and raised her hand.

"Yes, Emma?" Ryland's voice held a warmth she hadn't noticed before, and when she looked up, she found him watching her intently, his gaze steady.

"Well," she began, gathering her thoughts, "I think the moors represent the wild, untamed nature of their love. It's vast, uncontrollable, and dangerous. It doesn't conform to society's expectations or boundaries, and that's what makes it both beautiful and tragic."

Ryland's expression softened, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Exactly. The moors are a reflection of their passion—isolated, consuming, and ultimately destructive. It's a reminder that some things can't be confined to the rules we try to place around them."

Emma felt a warmth spread through her chest, his words resonating on a level she hadn't anticipated. She wanted to ask if he believed the same about relationships in real life—if he thought that some connections were meant to defy convention. But she knew that question was best left unspoken.

As class continued, Emma tried to focus, but her mind kept drifting back to their exchange. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were discussing more than just the text. Every glance, every word, seemed to carry a weight that left her both exhilarated and on edge.

When the lecture finally ended, Emma gathered her things slowly, hoping to avoid the rush of students heading out the door. She had almost managed to slip out unnoticed when she heard Ryland's voice behind her.

"Emma?"

She turned, her heart skipping a beat as she saw him standing there, his expression thoughtful. The room had emptied, leaving them alone in the silence.

"Yes, Professor?" she asked, keeping her tone light, even though her pulse was racing.

He hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. "You're a remarkable student, you know that? Your insights in class... they show a depth and understanding beyond your years."

Emma felt her cheeks warm under his gaze. "Thank you. It means a lot, coming from you."

Ryland's eyes held hers for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Literature isn't just about reading words on a page," he said softly. "It's about finding a piece of yourself in the text. I see that in you. You read with your heart as much as your mind."

His words struck a chord in her, and for a moment, she forgot that he was her professor, that they were standing in an empty classroom where anyone could walk in at any moment. It felt like they were alone in a world of their own, connected by something unspoken.

Finally, he cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Anyway, I just wanted to say that I appreciate your perspective. It's refreshing."

Emma nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She was afraid that if she did, she'd say something she couldn't take back.

With a slight smile, Ryland glanced at his watch. "Well, I'll see you next class. Have a good afternoon, Emma."

She managed a small smile in return. "You too, Professor."

As she walked out of the room, Emma's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. She knew there were boundaries between them—lines they couldn't cross. But as she left the building, she couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. There was a spark now, one that seemed to pulse beneath the surface, waiting to ignite.

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Emma's feelings are growing deeper. Can she keep them hidden, or will her heart betray her?