Unconditional (Student/Teacher Romance)

Some Things are best left Unsaid

Some Things are best left Unsaid 

For hours, which Mr. Radcliffe had imagined had been days, he sat on the corner of his bed thinking. Just thinking. That's all he did.

When he'd occasionally remove his head from his hands and look over to Emily, who slept so silently, it only made matters worse for him. His eyes would lock onto his wedding picture, then his wedding ring, and he'd think about if anybody were to ever discover his feelings for Emily, what would happen to him. He'd be fired, that was so sure. He'd be out-casted from his wife, disowned by his Catholic mother, sister and beloved niece. Their stares would be replaced with dismay and their mouths would speak only of shame. And then there was Emily herself. What would happen to her? She still had a full year to go in school before she could leave. Mr. Radcliffe couldn't possibly imagine the abuse a teenage girl would get for having an intimate relationship with a teacher: no matter how much he loved her. Teenagers nowdays wouldn't understand it, understand them. In fact, nor would adults'.

He wouldn't put her through that kind of misery. Emily was still young, thought Mr.Radcliffe. But then, so was he when you thought about it.

He could... No - shut up! Shut! Up!

Mr. Radcliffe slowly lay beside Emily, gently placing his lean body alongisde hers. But he didn't do anything to her. No, he just lay beside her.

Mesmerisingly he found that already his fingers were tickling the line of her jaw, tracing it up to the temples on her forehead. She was so beautiful, yet, so young. Nonetheless, Mr. Radcliffe lay there and he, putting aside his thoughts, stared at the girl he could never have. He could look, he could protect and he would teach, but never, ever, could he have or touch her. Temptation is the devil, and Mr. Radcliffe vowed that he would try - again - to not give in. He was a good man and a good man he shall still try to be.

He would confess everything to her in the morning.

And that was exactly what he did. Emily woke up around 6am, surprisingly early for her, only to find that Mr. Radcliffe was already awake, and was scurrying about in another room. She followed the scent of pancakes and other delicious goods through to Mr. Radcliffe's marbled kitchen. She smiled when looking at Mr. Radcliffe's back, busying himself over his large oven.

"Someone's hungry," Emily said. Mr. Radcliffe immediately smiled when hearing her voice but it was soon wiped away when he thought of what was about to occur.

"Please, why don't you sit Emily. I do hope you're hungry." He said. Emily chuckled and sat on a stool at his red breakfast table. After waiting patiently, sometimes with conversation, Mr. Radcliffe placed a plate down in front of Emily and sat adjacent from her. Emily stared at the main theme on the plate; there was a fresh pancake smiling up at her, with chocolate chips forming it's big, cheeky features. It looked like something you would give a child to eat. Emily frowned.

"Are you not eating, Sir?" asked Emily.

"No, Emily." He shook his head. "I'm not that hungry." He now nodded her head towards her plate in order for her to eat. Self-consciously, Emily began nibbling at the pancake.

Oh god! She stared into her teacher's eyes and she knew almost instantly that something was wrong. Not that cooking her breakfast in the morning was wrong; it was the way he just looked into her eyes as if he only had moments to live... She could see it. The fear and the guilt. She placed the pancake down and frowned up at him.