Professor Hemmings // lrh

Ⅲ

On Tuesdays I have three lectures, so after the last one I headed to my preferred coffee house to sip on some chocolate macchiato and finish reading the last chapters of Wuthering Heights.

The weather was still a little crisp and cold gusts of wind passed by from time to time, but the shining sun that illuminated the whole coffee house made it feel like it's already summer.

I came in and slumped in my usual spot right next the window, on one of those long and comfortable low window-sills with equally long cushion laid on its wooden surface.

After leaving my things I approached the bar to order my macchiato only to see that it's my friend Michelle's shift today.

"Oh, hey, Gia!" She beamed while pouring hot milk into someone's latte. "Haven't seen you in quite some time."

I chuckled. "Well, I'm back, and I'd like a macchiato with a huge mountain of cream on top, please."

She rolled her eyes. "You call that a coffee?"

"Ooh, that's how it is?" I giggled and narrowed my eyes at her in a jokingly challenging way.

"That's how it is!" She mirrored the challenge and passed the latte to some girl at the other end of the counter.

"So," she continued, starting to make my macchiato. "I heard there's some Professor Handsome teaching you lectures now?"

I rolled my eyes. "Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if someone told me he made it to the national news."

"So it's true, then?? How does it feel?"

My eyebrows knitted together in mild confusion. "How does what feel?"

"Oh, come on! How does it feel when you try to study but you can't because there's a young, hot professor in the middle of the room distracting you?"

I opened my mouth to protest but stopped, admitting to myself that he does distract me.

"Well, I can't really tell you, I've only had one class yesterday."

"God, I'm so jealous. All of my professors were either women or old men."

"When you think about it, it's quite impressive. He's only 27 and he's already a professor." I said, trying to form myself an unbiased opinion of him.

"Yeah, he must be brilliant." Wondered Michelle, finishing my macchiato. "I bet that's not the only impressive thing about him. Enjoy your coffee, dear."

"Thanks, you perv." I laughed and made my way back to my seat with a hot cup of coffee in my palms.

Before I could sit down, I found myself involuntarily blocking Mr. Hemmings', who just came in, way.

Surprise flashed across his features before he smiled widely at me, revealing a set of pearly white teeth.

"Hello, Miss Rose," he greeted me, idly stuffing his palms in his back pockets. "Fancy yourself a coffee?"

He eyed my cup of macchiato which must've looked really funny, because it seemed as a cup of cream only, absent of the slightest trace of coffee.

Michelle seemed to hear what he said to me and did the math, for she was agape, her eyes incessantly darting from his frame to mine in a frenzy.

"A-a bit," I yelped, my voice two octaves higher.

He smiled again, and it downed on me that maybe he takes pleasure in tormenting me like this.

"Enjoy." He nodded curtly and diverted his baby blue orbs into mine before making his way a bit further into the coffee house.

I sat down on the window-sill and put the cup on the table, only now realizing that my palms are almost scalded from the heat of the beverage.