His eyes caught mine as the words of Shakespeare rolled off of his tongue. It was mesmerizing. I was in a daze or the world had stopped turning on it's axis.
"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind."
Oh, please keep talking.
"Can anyone tell me what this means? How about you, Jordan? Give it a go."
The fog surrounding him cleared with the sound of Jordan's voice. As did my attention span. Not a single word that Jordan was saying made any sense to me.
Professor Hiddleston was leaned against his desk. Long, lanky legs stretched out in front of him. Runner's legs hidden behind much too much fabric. Although, he wore the black trousers well and they accentuated his bum like a work of art. His eyes were intense as he listened to the answer the student was giving.
Please, God, don't let him call on me.
His blonde tufts of hair stuck up in disarray, yet on him it seemed as if such perfect hair had never existed before. His glasses sat perched atop a slender nose, which crinkled when he smiled. Along with the crinkles around his eyes. Two sapphires that I was sure could hypnotize even the strongest of people. Even Old Dean Lassiter liked him. That was a stretch because she didn't like anyone.
Yes, he was a vision. And my professor. So this is where this little fantasy of mine had to end. It could go no farther than my longing for him behind a textbook. This cat and mouse game we had been playing for months was as far as it would go.
"Did Shakespeare ever say anything that made sense?" came a question from the back. Landon Trexler. Apparently he had actually decided to attend today's Shakespearean seminar.
"Mr. Trexler, I beg you to find another writer, new or old, that could so eloquently insult someone the way that Mr. Shakespeare could."
"Insult?" Landon scoffed. "The dude could barely string together two words that made any sense."
"Incorrect again Mr. Trexler. Would anyone like to argue their point against this gentleman here?"
Why I felt a sudden surge of braveness, I don't know, but I lifted my hand. Professor Hiddleston's face lit like the night sky in a Monet when he saw me.
"Ah, yes. Miss Callaway. What have you to say to Mr. Trexler's claims?"
I swallowed hard, my bravery disappearing. When he looked at me like that, how was I supposed to remember such difficult things like how to talk?
"William Shakespeare was a one of a kind man. Not only of his time but of ours. His writings brought laughter and tears, death and love. We seen the love of Romeo and Juliet. The tragedy of Macbeth. The humor of A Midsummer Night's Dream. If, after reading his plays, you don't feel as if you know him, or at least a small part of him, his genius, then I do feel sorry for you."
Landon stared at me for a moment before smacking his friend on the back. "I don't know about Shakespeare but I'd like to get to know her better."
The raucous laughter and cheers caused the annoyance most prevalent on Professor Hiddleston's face.
"Landon." I called above the noise. The classroom quieted as he looked at me, awaiting my words. "I do desire that we may be better strangers."
Open mouths across the room stared in shock. The only sound was of Professor Hiddleston's laughter.
"And that, Mr. Trexler, is how you get served in Shakespeare. Class dismissed."
~~~~~~~
"Miss Callaway. Please, I'd like to speak with you." the professor called, his large hands holding tight to a copy of Hamlet.
