The Morning After [Victuri] ✔️

Forget It

It was finally nearing the end of the day and with only one class left to go, I was about ready to collapse. I assume it wasn't completely my fault I hadn't managed to sleep much last night, but the French class I was about to walk into definitely wasn't going to help wake me up at all.

My headache had been getting progressively worse throughout the day, still, at least Phichit had been beside me the whole time, helping me through lessons and keeping everyone else's voices at bay.

We strolled into the classroom together, following the same procedure we had been all day; walking to the back of the class, I would take the seat in the corner and Phichit sitting right beside me.

We both fumbled to get our books and pens out, placing them on the desk before turning our attention to the front of the class. The teacher wasn't here yet; it always irritated me when teachers would show up late. They could scold someone for being late, and on a bad day possibly even grant that person a detention. But when the teacher walks in late there are no consequences for them and we just lose more time in which we could have learnt something. Its like they didn't even realise we had our exams this summer and I for one needed to do well.

Minutes passed and the teacher was still absent; the rest of the class had erupted into conversation and it was starting to get to me. The pain in my head slowly got worse and I tried my best to block out the overpowering noise, burying my head in my arms and clamping my hands onto my ears as hard as I could but it really wasn't working very well.

That was until it all stopped.

The room turned to silence and I slowly lifted my head from my arms and I squinted against the bright lights, swearing I saw a flash of silver as who I presumed to be the late teacher made his way through the door and towards the front of the class.

My eyes quickly adjusted back to the lighting and I was met with ice-blue orbs staring straight at me. My breath hitched in my throat and my eyes widened at the sudden realisation.

But the moment didn't last long, before I knew it his eyes were off mine and scanning the rest of the class before he composed himself and began to speak.

"Hello class, I'm Mr Nikiforov for those of you who don't know." He turned, picking up a pen and scribbling his name on the board behind him, "I'm the new head of languages at the school, your old teacher had to leave for personal reasons so I will be taking over the class this year."

He continued to speak but I couldn't comprehend what he was saying, especially with that tight fitting shirt. As always I let my imagination get the better of me - spacing out in class was one of my specialities and more often than not it would end with someone feeling very self-conscious and uncomfortable due to my incessant staring and me being thoroughly scolded by the teacher for not paying attention.

But right in that moment, the only thing I could think about was that blue-eyed man; my teacher. The way he looked in bed this morning, the way he bit his lip seductively as he gazed at me and the pressure of his lips on mine before I left.

"Yuri?" His voice came in the same russian accent it carried this morning, but it wasn't the same. There was no emotion in his voice and I missed the way he had dragged out the 'u'.

Lost in my thoughts again I didn't actually reply and a moment later I was interrupted again by Phichit's elbow in my side.

"Yuri?" He hissed into my ear, "He's doing the register, pay attention!"

"Huh? What?"

By this point Victor was right in front of my desk, his facial expression still unchanging, "Vous êtes Yuri?" (Are you Yuri?)