Abused (Teacher/student)

Chapter 3

As its the new year, 2018, I decided to post. Wishing you all the best for this year, I hope this year is amazing for you. I also decided that im going to try post twice a week, Monday and thursday. Anyway, happy new years 💙

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He stood up and looked at me. A blush crept on both of our faces. "Uh, Primrose, is it? I had you first period..." He laughed nervously, showing his perfect teeth.

Words do not describe how nervous I was. I nodded, placing all my stuff on the table. I subconsciously started playing with my sleeves; my heart racing at an uneasy rate.

"Oh that's fantastic. That means you already have met. Well I'm going to leave you but I will check on you later." She smiled at me warmly, I smiled back. She shut the door leaving me and Mr Harding alone in the classroom.

I looked up at him. Oh god, he's even more good looking up close. His eyes were the colour of clear summer sky. I couldn't help but get lost in them. "So, what are you painting?" He asked, slightly tilting his head which snapped me out of my trance straight away.

I tried to speak but no words came out. I felt sick, I hated myself and wished that I could just be like everyone else. I gestured to the painting. He moved closer and looked at it. He seemed maybe 6 foot, was anything wrong with this man?!

"Wow." He breathed staring at it. This only made me more nervous about it.

"It needs a lot more work." I said quietly, finally speaking. He grinned at me, he had a sort of boisterous look when he smiled. He was so hot and cute at the same time it actually hurt.

"This is actually amazing! I'd pay to be as talented as you are."

My face was going bright red. I've never felt this nervous around anybody. "Th-thankyou, but it's really not that good." I said again, my voice remaining soft and quiet.

"Nonsense, you are being modest. I can't wait to see the end picture." He looked into my eyes and then to my lips and glanced up again quickly.

"Mr Harding?!" The door swung open, we both turned to see an women at the door. "I need your opinion on a couple answers."

He turned around smiled at me and gestured that he had to go. I nodded and smiled slightly. The women seemed to be glaring at me. I looked away, confusion building inside me. What on earth just happened?

The two of them left and I adjusted my easel and continued. My mind stayed on him though. His smile, his eyes, his accent. I felt a smile grow on my own face. What was happening to me? I felt like my whole body was heated when he talked and it was so hard to form words.

15 minutes had passed before he returned, he smiled at me and went to his desk to continue working. I focused on mine. The problem with painting is that it gives so much time to think and when I think, I become miserable.

I thought about the night before with my Dad, my fingers went up to my cheek and gently caressed it; I felt all the small cuts under my thumb. A deep sigh passed my lips as memories, insecurities and fears filled my mind.

I looked up at Mr Harding, he was biting his lip as he marked work. I felt my heart flutter. I small annoyed groan came out of him. I quickly looked at my canvas, wetting my paint brush with some white paint.

"Do kids even read these days?" He mumbled, rolling his eyes at the piece of paper and dropping it back on the desk. He looked up at me, I could feel his eyes watching my every movement. I delicately put the white paint the paper and blended it to make the pink a shade lighter.