005: Routine

ARTHUR.

“Niko, did you hear what happened with your nephew?”

Levi’s call came in the moment I stepped into my house. Timed, just as he knew I liked things these days.

“What happened?” I asked, walking into my house, locking the door behind me without glancing at it.

The next routine was simple.

Take my coat off. Shoes off, slippers on. Check every room in the house. Set water boiling. Head to my study. Drop off my suitcase. Get started on dinner.

A simple life. A routine I’ve kept going for three years now.

“He broke off his engagement with the Bramwell girl.”

Bramwell?

I paused in my tracks, my coat hovering over the hanger.

A face came to my mind. Young, Angelic, framed with hair of spun gold, big expressive hazel eyes that said everything and nothing all at once. She was a stunning thing.

The kind of beauty that captivates poets, artists and writers alike. Beauty that inspires worship and hatred all at once.

'I can call you daddy…or do you prefer sir?'

Evangeline Bramwell. That girl spells nothing but trouble in bold, underlined, glaring letters. She’s my nephew’s ex-fiancée?

A most unfortunate coincidence.

As if nothing had happened, I resumed my routine. “Why?”

Levi chuckled. In the background, a woman yelled at him to get out of the way. He cursed her out. I didn't need to ask to know what she was Elaine, his wife. They exchanged a few more charged words, malice lacking in them. I waited for them to be done.

Levi scoffed, back on the line. “Hell, if I know. Kid just went bonkers. You should have seen your sister! Man, she was furious! Threatened to kill him and all.”

“Ah, that must have been quite the sight.”

“Your sister is one hell of a beast, that’s for sure.”

“Where is Jeremy now?” I walked through my house, checking every room. Nothing seemed out of place.

“Hell if I know! Kid’s on his own now.”

A beat of pregnant of silence passed.

“Why did you call me?”

“Missed you, is all.” I could see him winking, a stupid grin on his face.

I paused. Again. The second time my routine has been interrupted in one evening alone. I sighed tiredly, rubbing my temples.

“Don’t be crass.”

Levi laughed, his signature wheezing kettle laugh. “I missed you, Niko. What’s crass about that? Things aren’t the same since you left. Do you ever think about those days?”

“No.”

“Come on! You mean to say you’re content with this boring life? Playing the well-mannered professor?! Receiving love letters on weekends?! Niko, you were made for more than this. You and I both know you crave more than—”

“Goodnight.” I ended the call before he could sprout more nonsense.

I found myself heading to my study, then I remembered I hadn’t boiled any water. Levi’s call irked me again. I wanted to punch that guy. He thinks he can just waltz into my life after three years and drop a casual; “missed you”.

How annoying.

The doorbell rang.

I groaned, scrubbing my palm over my face.

Why is my carefully crafted routine going off track today of days? As if I didn’t have enough to deal with.

The Bramwell girl comes to mind again. Her face. Her voice. The air of false confidence around her. The troubled look in her eyes.

Her very obvious lack of boundaries.

Why on earth am I thinking about an impudent student? I should report her to the disciplinary committee before this little, whatever she’s doing, gets out of hand.

The doorbell rang again, followed by a familiar voice shouting: “Uncle Niko?! Are you in?!”

“I’ll be dammed,” I muttered under my breath.

Heading over to the door, I opened it. And surely, there was my nephew, Jeremy. He looked like a wet rat, or rather a neglected hamster.

“Uncle Niko…” he whispered, his lip wobbling and his face cracked open in a painful expression.

He launched into my arms, forcing unwanted physical contact upon me, his face buried in my chest as his body shook with sobs.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know w-where else to go! Mom said she’ll feed me to the dogs if…if I...”

“That’s enough. Come inside, take your shoes off first.”

“T-thank you,”

There goes my peaceful Tuesday evening.

An hour later, Jeremy was fast asleep in one of my guest rooms; fed, showered, and looking less like a homeless person. And finally, finally, I could continue my routine.

Yet for whatever reason, my mind kept going back to that girl.

Jeremy wouldn’t stop talking about her. Going on and on in detail about how much he loved her, how much it pained him to break things off with her, how much he wished he could see her again.

Is he talking about the same Bramwell girl?

The girl that sauntered into my office with an ill-baked seduction plan, shaky confidence, and false bravado?

For a moment, I admired her boldness. Surely, I’ve had a ton of students attempt something of the sort, but none have ever been bold as her. The audacity to walk into my office and offer herself to me.

She’s crazy. She’s trouble. I should do all I can to avoid her.

Finally in my study, I pulled up my home computer and opened an email to the school disciplinary committee. I typed in “Student inappropriate behavior,” in the subject line.

My fingers froze over the keyboard.

Evangeline’s face flashed in my mind again.

The pure agony and desperation in her eyes as she begged me to change her grade. Her high-pitched panicked voice as she offered to do anything. The way the black of her pupils overtook every shred of color in her beautiful eyes.

Why did she have to resort to such drastic measures over a grade? She thinks her body is worth a grade? What sort of thoughts go on in that pretty head of hers?

Trouble. She's trouble.

I shook my head and rubbed my temples. It’s not like I care. I’m her Professor, I’m not obligated to matters outside of the classroom.

I tried to compose the email again.

No words would come out.

Astrophysics major. The brains in her head have to be impressive. But then if she’s so smart, why wouldn’t she put in any effort in my classes?

Thinking about her is giving me a headache. I shouldn’t even be thinking about my student outside of school hours.

‘I can call you daddy…’

Her sultry voice echoed in my head. She’s clearly never done that before; her lack of experience was stamped on her forehead.

She looked like a proper girl. Not a hair out of place, eyes wide and full of innocence, clothes prim and proper...pristine, almost. Not a shred of skin showing anywhere except for her face and hands.

The textbook definition of a good girl.

Which is exactly why I must take action. Nip this nonsense in the bud before it grows into a monster.

I typed the email. Deleted it. Typed it again only to delete it yet again.

"This is annoying," I muttered. A dull ache registered in the side of my head. Tiredness filled my body.

I should get some rest. Forget about her and continue my peaceful life.

With that, I deleted the final email draft and closed my laptop. Reporting a student for misconduct is too much work. Too much paper work. I don’t have time to spare for that.

Then on second thought, I reopened the computer and composed a different email. This time to Evangeline Bramwell.

If she has spare time to put into cheap seduction games, she should have enough time to work for that 96.