Lessons In Butterflies ｡ ｡ ｡ (StudentxTeacher Romance)

Chapter 41: Thoughtful. Beautiful. Mine.

Mr Caldwelll's POV:

I sat at the staff room table, papers in front of me, though none of them were getting marked. My pen tapped idly against the edge of my notebook as I stared through the open kitchen door. The soft clinking of bowls and the occasional laugh floated into the room, wrapping around me like a siren's call.

Shella was there, baking with Mrs. Thompson. The staff room kitchen wasn't large, and I had the perfect view from where I sat.

She was wearing an apron that looked too big for her, tied clumsily at the back. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, though a few strands had escaped and framed her face. My breath hitched slightly as I watched her brush them back, a small smudge of flour on her cheek.

She was glowing.

I felt heat creep up my neck as I caught myself staring too long, my chest tightening in a way I couldn't ignore. I looked down at the papers in front of me, gripping my pen as if that would stop my thoughts from spiralling.

It didn't work.

I glanced up again, just in time to see her laughing at something Mrs. Thompson said. The sound was soft, unguarded, and it hit me harder than I'd like to admit.

And then she turned her head, her gaze flickering toward me.

I froze, my heart pounding in my chest as our eyes met. For a moment, neither of us moved. Then, her lips curled into a shy smile, and I felt my face flush. I quickly looked down at the papers again, pretending to be absorbed in my work.

God, this was impossible.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her step out of the kitchen. She approached hesitantly, holding a cookie in one hand and the dish towel in the other.

"Hey," she said softly.

I glanced up, forcing myself to meet her gaze despite the way my stomach twisted. "Hey."

She set the cookie on the table in front of me, her fingers brushing mine for the briefest second. The contact sent a jolt through me, and I had to clench my fist under the table to keep from reacting.

"You've been working hard," she teased, nodding toward the papers.

I couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped me. "Yeah, about that... I might've been a little distracted."

Her cheeks turned pink, and she looked down at the dish towel in her hands, twisting it nervously. "Distracted by what?"

"You," I admitted, the word slipping out before I could stop it.

Her eyes snapped up to mine, wide and uncertain, but there was a spark of something else there too.

"Shella," I said, my voice barely above a whisper as I reached for her hand. She let me take it, her fingers warm and slightly trembling in my grasp.

Before I could say anything else, Mrs. Thompson re-entered the room, humming to herself as she carried another tray of cookies. Shella pulled her hand away quickly, stepping back like she'd been caught.

"Don't mind me," Mrs. Thompson said cheerfully, oblivious to the tension in the air. "I just need to grab a few things."

Shella gave me a fleeting glance, her lips pressed together, and then turned to follow Mrs. Thompson back into the kitchen.

I sat back in my chair, running a hand through my hair and letting out a shaky breath.

I was in way over my head.

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Shella's POV:

I placed the last batch of muffins on the cooling rack, their sweet scent filling the small kitchen. The day had stretched long, and I couldn't shake the exhaustion settling into my bones. Still, the thought of Elias—the thought of him—kept a small smile on my lips.

Where was he, anyway? And Mrs. Thompson?

I glanced at the clock. It was much later than I'd realized, the hallways likely empty now. I pulled off my apron, folding it neatly before grabbing my bag and slipping into my blazer. Just as I reached the door, I stopped short, biting my lip.

I hadn't taken a muffin for Elias.

Letting out a small groan, I hurried back to the counter, carefully packing one of the muffins into a small paper bag. It was still warm, and I hoped it would make him smile. He deserved that, didn't he?

The hallways were eerily quiet as I made my way to his office, the dim lighting casting long shadows that made the space feel unfamiliar. My footsteps echoed softly, and I hugged my bag tighter to my side, heart racing just a little too fast.

When I reached his office door, I paused. The lights were off inside, the faint hum of the building the only sound. My fingers fumbled as I reached for a pen and a sticky note from my bag. I needed to leave something—something cute, something that would make him think of me.

"Sweetheart, I thought you might need something to brighten your night. I hope this is as sweet as you. Xx Shella"

I read it over, my cheeks warming. Was it too much? Too little? I hesitated for a moment before shaking my head. No, it was perfect.

I folded the note neatly and tucked it into the paper bag with the muffin, slipping the whole thing just inside his door. It was silly, maybe even childish, but the idea of him finding it tomorrow filled me with a nervous kind of excitement.

As I turned to leave, I glanced back once more, a small smile tugging at my lips.

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Mr Caldwell's POV:

The next morning, I unlocked my office door, balancing my coffee in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. The faintest scent of something sweet greeted me as I stepped inside, and I frowned, setting the papers down on my desk.

That's when I saw it—a small paper bag, neatly placed just inside the doorway.

My brow furrowed as I crouched down, picking it up. A muffin. Still slightly soft, as if it had been baked just hours before. My lips twitched into a half-smile, but it wasn't the muffin that caught my attention. It was the folded note tucked inside.

I pulled it out, unfolding it slowly.

"Sweetheart, I thought you might need something to brighten your night. I hope this is as sweet as you. Xx Shella"

My heart stuttered for a moment, and I had to sit down. The word sweetheart stood out, making me grin like an idiot. I read it again, my thumb brushing over her small, loopy handwriting.

God, she was something else.

I leaned back in my chair, the muffin temporarily forgotten as I let my mind wander to her. Last night in the staff room, I'd tried to keep my distance. I knew better. But she'd looked so damn cute, baking with Mrs. Thompson, her cheeks pink from the heat of the ovens. And now this—her thoughtfulness, her sweetness—it was all driving me insane.

I glanced at the clock. My first class wasn't for another hour. The staff room would probably be empty by now.

Grabbing the muffin, I stood and tucked the note into my pocket. I couldn't stop myself from heading to the kitchen, hoping she might already be there.

She wasn't.

Instead, I found Mrs. Thompson humming to herself as she cleaned up. She glanced at me and smiled knowingly.

"Good morning, Elias. Did you enjoy the muffin Shella left for you?"

I cleared my throat, trying and failing to play it cool. "Uh... yeah. How did you know about that?"

She winked. "Oh, she told me she was planning to leave you something. She's thoughtful, isn't she?"

Thoughtful. Beautiful. Mine.

I nodded stiffly, murmuring something about getting back to my office. As I walked away, the note burned in my pocket. She was going to be the death of me, and I couldn't decide if I hated it—or loved every second of it.

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Oh gosh.... I actually love them so so much! - Luna xx