Lessons In Butterflies ｡ ｡ ｡ (StudentxTeacher Romance)

Chapter 51: Or just Your Favourite . . . ?

Shella's POV:

I stirred awake to the soft rustle of fabric and the faint creak of the floor. Blinking against the dim light filtering through the curtains, I saw him standing near the edge of the room, pulling his shirt over his head.

Elias.

For a moment, I just watched him, my heart fluttering at the sight. His back was to me, the lines of his shoulders and the curve of his spine illuminated by the pale morning light. He moved with an effortless grace, each motion purposeful and sure.

He was getting dressed, buttoning up a crisp shirt that clung to his frame just enough to make me linger on the details.

The memories of last night flooded back, making my cheeks flush. His touch, his words, the way he held me like I was the most important thing in the world.

I sat up slowly, the blanket slipping down my shoulders, and he turned at the sound, his eyes softening when they met mine.

"Morning," he said, his voice low and warm.

"Morning," I murmured, a small smile playing on my lips.

He hesitated, then walked over, sitting on the edge of the couch. His hand reached out to brush a strand of hair from my face, his touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he said softly.

"It's okay," I replied, my voice still thick with sleep. "Are you leaving?"

He nodded, a faint shadow of regret crossing his face. "I have to—meet up with the others. But..." He paused, his lips quirking into a small, almost shy smile. "I left you something."

I tilted my head, curiosity piqued. "What is it?"

Elias stood, gesturing toward the small table by the couch. There, neatly folded, was one of his sweaters—the dark green one he'd been wearing earlier on the trip. Beside it was a small, handwritten note.

I reached for the note, my fingers trembling slightly as I unfolded it.

Shella,
Something to keep you warm when I can't be there.
-E

My breath caught, the sweetness of the gesture overwhelming me for a moment. I pressed the note to my chest, a smile spreading across my face.

"I thought you might like it," he said, his voice tinged with nervousness.

"I love it," I replied, looking up at him with more emotion than I could contain.

Elias's gaze softened, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of us. But then he straightened, his professionalism slipping back into place like armor.

"I'll see you later, okay?" he said, his tone gentle but firm.

"Okay," I whispered, clutching the sweater and note like they were lifelines.

He hesitated, then leaned down to press a quick, tender kiss to my forehead. "Don't be late."

And then he was gone, leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and the weight of his presence.

I slipped the sweater over my head, the fabric soft and warm against my skin. It felt like a hug, like a promise, and I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face as I hugged myself.

Elias Caldwell might not be mine entirely yet, but this—this was something. And it was everything.

___________

Elias's POV:

The air was crisp as we set out on the hike, the morning mist still clinging to the trees. The students moved in clusters, their voices a mixture of excitement and exhaustion as they trudged up the first incline.