FADED. A Werewolf story. (Book One)

I

I hate it when am late for classes.

Honestly I am always an early bird. However there is always that day. The day when you are lazy to walk out of  bed even when you hear the alarm. Guess that day is today for me. I am going to be totally late thanks to my laziness.

Early morning at exactly seven, I heard the annoying buzz of my alarm. I reached for it on my night stand and switched it off to continue with my sleep for at least five more minutes.

Goddamn the warm covers!

I don't know how five more minutes turned to thirty but all I know is I am late for Calculus.

I am never late for any class. Perhaps any other class but not Calculus. Which person in their right mind would be late for this class? Me. Right. Mr Harry, the Calculus teacher is hot as fuck. Such a word is inappropriate to be describing my twenty nine year old teacher but I would be damned if other students didn't call him worse.

Penetrating steely gray eyes, dark brown hair, angelic smile and broad shoulders. Sometimes I am convinced he is out of this world.

I am sure most girls took this class because of Mr. Harry. A perk of his though is that he is always on time which explains my current state right now. I am running through the hallways like a mad person ignoring the curious stares.

I can deal with those later. I tell my self. It is not that it is not a daily occurrence on campus for anyone. People can't just seem to mind their own bussiness.

Sweaty and breathless, I make it to the lecture room checking on my watch. Five minutes late. It can't be that bad. Taking a few breaths to calm my nerves and a miserable attempt with my hand to straighten my platinum blonde hair, I make a timid knock at the door.

As the door opens, my body tenses. Mr Harry devilishly handsome as always in his light blue dress shirt without a tie revealing a peak of his tanned broad chest coupled with a pair of black slacks that shows off his strong muscular thighs and legs and the shinny black Oxfords stares at me.

If Harry wasn't a lecturer, he could make a better model for the front page of magazines. I would pin his posters in my room except now am no longer sixteen and he's not a model.

There is that watch on his wrist that I cant make out because I don't understand the label but everyone can tell it's vintage and expensive. At this proximity, I can make out that his eyes have a brown ring in them making them more hypnotizing.

Earth to Lyka! Hello?

Then the furrow of his brows and frown on his lips makes me want to shrink in place.

Mr Harry clears his voice and I know I have been ogling him longer than I should have. Shoot me now. I look like a fucking idiot. This is a damn teacher I am checking out and I couldn't have bothered to be subtle about it.

You not better than those girls throwing themselves around him at campus.

"Mrs Moore, you are late."

Like he wasn't saying the obvious already. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. He shifts on his feet and I welcome that orchid manly cologne that invades my nostrils. I have been obsessed with this man's scent to know it hasn't changed for two years. Stalker much?