Her Beautiful Seduction (Student/Teacher)

Chapter 11 || Going to Be Worth it

Unedited. /// Shorter chapters will become the norm for now, unless I feel more motivated! 😙

GOING TO BE WORTH IT.

"I'm... I'm... I'm sorry..." I begin, anxiously folding my hands together on my lap.

Outside, the rain only seems to pour faster; more violently; as if resonating with the chaotic thoughts in my mind; in the car; in his mind.

He sighs heavily, shaking his head.

"This can't continue."

I shoot him a look of defiance, "what can't?"

"Namora, you cannot just intrude on, hug, or do whatever you did outside just now," he motions towards the school entrance, "with me, a teacher. For God's sake, I'm your teacher."

"Friendship is constant in all things," I begin shakily, inhaling his cologne which seems to smother me from all sides. I thought it would calm my nerves, but the only thing it does is make me even more anxious.

"Save in the office and affairs of love," he counters, his blue eyes glistening with irritation.

I raise my eyebrows, "you think I'm in love with you?"

It's true, but he doesn't need to know.

"I don't know."

"Mr. Williams, just because... because you're a teacher—"

"Don't try to justify it."

I don't know why it happened. Maybe it was because I felt overwhelmed. Maybe it was because I felt like our little friendship was on the verge of collapsing. Maybe it was because I was about to lose him.

But before I know it, big baby tears begin falling from my eyes, slithering down my brown cheeks in silence. And before I know it, I find myself crying into my hands in front of Mr. Williams, my sobs being muffled by the sheath of my arms.

    God,   what on Earth is wrong with me?

After a good three seconds of my muffled sobs, I shakily wipe away my tears, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

Hiccuping, I look up at him with bloodshot eyes as more tears flow, "I just... you're my first friend in this school and I thought... I just..."

He just sits there, stunned to the core as he watches me collapse in front of him.

I bury my face in my hands again, shoulders shaking, "I'm sorry... I got carried away, it's not your fault if I didn't have any friends and I don't know how to act around people..."

Inhaling, I look up again, "I just... I just... thought..."

He continues to observe me in silence, as if absorbing everything I'd said. His face is an emotionless mask, though I feel as if he's looking deep into my soul with those piercing winter storms of his, orbs that glister with something akin to concern.

    Don't look further, please.     I don't want you to see the way my heart bleeds for you.

I shake my head, "I'm so sorry, I'll just... I'll just go..."

Turning around, my shaky hands move to open the door, much aware of the tempest brewing.
Still, I'd rather go out there than stay a second longer in this car where I've made a fool of myself. He probably doesn't even want to see my face ever again.

As I push the door open, letting the droplets lick my clothes, ready to embrace the tempest that awaits me, I feel something wrap around my arms and I gasp at the electricity that immediately flutters in me, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Then he pulls me back into the car, reaches for the door and slams it close, leaving me fighting to keep my breaths levelled.

I mean, how can I not panic, when he'd just touched me? How does he think I won't fall in love with him when all he does is show me how much more I should love him?

Letting go of my arms quickly as if I'd stung him, he leans back in his seat and shakes his head, as if in disbelief. As if he can't believe this is happening.

"You're trouble, Namora."

He begins, and I wince when he turns a fiery glare over me.

"But you're also more troubled than you let on..."

I look at him uncertainly, wondering where his deduction was going.

"...Is there something going on at home, Namora?"

I sit there, dumbfounded for a few seconds, as I try to make sense of what he's saying.

But then I see the flicker of concern in those blues, the lines on his forehead, the worry on his face.

And then I realize that he thinks... my acting like this has to do with my having trouble at home...

I continue to stare at him blankly, dumbfounded. Because how can one be so clever yet naïve enough to guess so wrongly? And come up with a plan so brilliant that even I didn't think of?

This is pure genius.

"Namora...?"

For a second, I'm in a battle with my morals.

But then I look at his face and I see it in his facial expression, I see it in his manner, I see it in the way he looks at me.

I have his interest. His attention. Even if it may only be fatherly.

Peering into those blue orbs, I see an ocean; a tempest which I feel I should persevere through.

And as the waves crush against my mahogany browns, they overlap me. And I drown.

Soon enough losing hold of the light— my honesty.

Letting my emotions overwhelm me, I give him the most watery smile I can muster, with the most teary eyes I can force.

"Yes... there is."

I feel it, the darkness consuming me, the clouds overhead barring me from the taste of the sun.

But as I look at the man before me, I realize I would do anything.

Anything to get him to feel for me the way I feel for him.

   And I know I'm going to regret this.

   But in the end, it's going to be worth it.