✁𝙏𝙤𝙢 𝙃𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨

𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲

ｗｏｒｄｃｏｕｎｔ: ３,６ｋ

warning: guess what hoes..SMUT

You stumbled into the cold classroom, gripping the strap of your backpack lazily resting on your shoulder. Your eyes shifted to the clock hanging on the wall. 9:02am. Shit, you were late. Two minutes, but still late. All the seats were taken and now you were awkwardly standing there trying not to cause a scene.

"Nice of you to join us, please take a seat." Too late.

You searched the room for an empty seat and quickly made your way to an empty stool. The only empty stool. You dropped your backpack on the floor, settling down into the seat. You briefly made eye contact with the boy sitting across from you. It was obvious he was trying hard not to acknowledge you, spare you some embarrassment for walking in late, but his brown eyes caught yours for a second. His lips forming a tight line smile.

The first day of classes always sucked. Syllabi were thrown around; awkward icebreakers were always a must and there were always those uncomfortable silences amongst strangers. You were done with the buffoonery. But alas here you were flipping through the four-page packet compromised of your chemistry course calendar, assignments, and tasks for the next few weeks.

The voice of your professor faded in and out as you skimmed the classroom. You could probably count the number of women in the room with one hand. Your professor being one of them.

You were quickly pulled out of your trance when you heard the professor say, "Okay so please give your name, major, year and why you're taking this course." You tried really hard not to roll your eyes. Didn't professors have any better ice breaker? Better yet, couldn't they skip it all together? You weren't here to make friends, you just needed to pass.

You leaned your head on the palm of your hand as you hear people introducing themselves. You really couldn't care less, until the boy - that one with the big doe eyes and tight line smile - started speaking. He cleared his throat, furrowing his brows. "Um, my name is Peter. I'm a first year undeclared." The teacher, whose arms were folded, nodded her head. "Why are you taking this course, Peter?"

You watch the boy fumble on the stool, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. "Considering a chemistry minor," he said giving her a small smile. You tried hard not to smirk, glancing at the dorky pun t-shirt he was wearing; this kid did not look like he needed the course.

Now it was your turn. Having been through this same ice breaker for multiple classes, you were quick. "My name is Y/n. Second year, electrical engineering and physics double major. Minor in chemistry. Taking this course for my minor."

You felt everyone's eyes fixate on you. You were used to it. The only pair of eyes that mattered were those of the boy across from you whose mouth had fallen open absorbing in the information. You looked at him briefly, noticing his brows furrowed, one of them unruly. You looked away and towards the professor giving her an awkward smile. "Great, impressive y/n," she said motioning towards the next student.

That's how the class went for the next hour and forty-five minutes. It was pure torture. After a painstaking review of the course, the syllabus and the expectations, the teacher closed the class with a quick explanation of the final project.

Final project? You thought to yourself. On cue the professor spoke. "I know the final project is ways out, but this is going to be a partner project so I am giving you the opportunity now to start thinking of who you want to partner with. This is worth 45% of your grade. Partner choices need to be emailed to me by this Sunday. Class dismissed."