Professor (Sigma x Reader) DISCONTINUED

Feel Something

A/N Sorry for the skip but all that really happens between now and the next chapter is explained in the first paragraph...And I'm kind of eager to get this story moving along.

The air was beginning to get crisp against your skin. Fall had quickly approached, meaning you only had a couple more months until winter. There were ten more weeks until winter break, so ten more weeks until your music project was due...Three weeks until your first presentation in social psychology, three days to complete a seven page essay in personality psychology, and you had a speech to give in your abnormal psychology class today. Your least stressful class right now is your music conducting class. The teacher there was rather nice and did more showing videos and checking to see if you were taking good notes.

Oddly enough, Professor de Kuiper was one of the most sympathetic people you had met. He made sure all of his students were okay and did everything he could to help. He had noticed you looking rather stressed as time progressed and offered to help you in the library with whatever class you need help with. Best he could at least. You let him help too. Just, not with your music. You didn't really want him to know you were planning to major in music as well as psychology. Mostly because you had been told most of your life that your dream to be a music major was pointless and you'd never get anywhere with a degree like that.

"Are you alright Miss (L/n)?" The familiar voice of your professor snapped you out of your thoughts.

"Yeah. Just, working really hard to finish this up." You told him, reviewing your speech once more. "You'd think it would be easier to memorize this since I wrote it but I keep finding things that need fixed so I almost start from square one over and over."

The two of you sat in the library, reviewing your speech for next period. It was a well written speech but you weren't confident in it. It always seemed like something was incorrect or inaccurate. That was just your thinking though. You couldn't help but think everything you did wasn't going to get you a passing grade. You were confident you would fail.

"I've told you, (y/n), the speech is fine. I've read it over twice today. Even the grammar is practically perfect." He assured you. "Just, say it to me."

You shook your head. "No, I can't. It's not okay. I-I have to change the ending again."

He placed a hand on your shoulder. "(Y/n). It's fine."

You stared at your professor for a hot minute. He seemed to be rather sincere about this, as he always was. You always doubted yourself and your abilities though. It wasn't like you could help it though.

"Say it. I'll follow along."

You took a breath, deciding not to argue with him. He always won anyway. How he managed to win, you had no idea. You knew almost every psychological trick to win and yet, he still always got to your head.

"O-Okay professor." You half whisper, taking another breath before starting to state, word for word, was was written down on your paper.

God it hurt to do this. It brought back memories from your middle school years; back when your father made you do this all the time. He knew he was doing wrong to you. He knew he was beating you and leaving marks. He would make you write stories to tell. You'd sit in the living room, citing word for word what you had written on a piece of paper. The story you would tell any and every student and staff member to cross your path. If you messed up, you had to add more to it. Not because he wanted you to, but because you would have to now explain the new cut or bruise on your body.

You didn't register the tears. You were too focused on getting this done that you hadn't noticed them sliding down your face. Your professor had though. He didn't say anything, pretending he was still following along. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't concerned. This isn't the first time you've broken down over something like this. Frankly, you break down over the simplest of things. He's seen you silently cry when you get an answer wrong in class, as if it were the end of the world.