“A word is what a word does!” your English teacher lectured from the front of the classroom, and you found yourself looking at his toned muscles; moving and flexing with every move. “Ugh… I swear he just likes to tease us!” your best friend hissed from beside you. “I know!” you said, not knowing how loud you spoke. The room went quiet, and you felt a blush creep up your neck. Mr. Malik stopped his lecture, and turned to you. The dim light made his caramel skin seem darker, and his tattoos on his arm stand out.
“Y/N? Is there something you want to say? To the whole class?” He spoke, his accent thick. You stuttered out, “N-no, Mr. m-Malik.” Your friend was giggling behind you, and you kicked back hitting her in the shin. She squealed, and it was your turn to smirk.
Mr. Malik slightly smiled, and the bell rang. “Alright, class. Page 394 is due Friday, don’t forget!” He said, clapping his hands together. You gathered your books, and took off into the swarm of teenagers. You stopped at your locker, and dropped your books off.
“So, Y/N… What is it you were going to tell the class before you were interrupted?” a Bradford accent said from behind you. You turned around, and saw Mr. Malik, and the hallway was clear. You stepped back a step in surprise, hitting a locker in the process.
He took a step towards you, putting his arms on either side of you. You could feel the heat radiating off his body. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, and you could’ve passed out then and there from his touch. “I know you find me sexy” His breath was hot against your neck. You wanted to kiss him, long and passionate, but you knew it wasn’t right. He was a teacher, and you were a student. Only a student.
