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University Administration

Author: Billie Patsy
last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2026-10-12 21:34:03

Cherish’s POV

I saw her before she saw me.

She was standing near the entrance of the student center, perfectly put together in a cream coat and sunglasses, looking like she belonged to a different world from the rest of us. I didn’t recognize her at first. Then she removed the sunglasses and looked straight at me.

I knew.

Elena.

She walked toward me with calm, measured steps, as if we had arranged this meeting. Students passed between us without noticing anything was wrong. My first instin
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  • FORBIDDEN HANDS: My Cold Professor    The Message

    Cherish’s POV Adrian’s mouth was on my neck when the phone lit up. We were on his couch, the only light coming from the small lamp in the corner. Music played low from a speaker somewhere behind us. His hands had already slipped under my shirt, warm palms moving slowly over my skin. I had been trying—really trying—to stay inside the moment. To let the simple, uncomplicated heat of someone my own age push everything else out of my head. His lips trailed lower, brushing the soft place just above my collarbone, and a quiet, unwilling moan slipped out of my throat before I could stop it. Then the screen of my phone, sitting face-up on the coffee table, glowed white. Dalton Crowe. My entire body went still. The soft sound I had just made died in my chest. Adrian felt the change immediately. He lifted his head, breathing a little uneven, eyes searching my face. “You okay?” I couldn’t answer right away. My eyes stayed locked on the name. After days of complete silence—no texts, no c

  • FORBIDDEN HANDS: My Cold Professor    Trying

    Cherish’s POV Adrian’s apartment was smaller than I expected and warmer than mine. Soft yellow light came from a single lamp in the corner. Music played low from a speaker on the shelf—something slow and wordless. He took my jacket, offered me a drink, and didn’t rush anything. We sat on the couch with a half-finished bottle of wine between us. He talked about his classes and a roommate who had gone home for the weekend. I answered when I needed to. The wine helped. It loosened the tight feeling in my chest just enough that I could lean back and pretend this was ordinary. After a while he shifted closer. His knee brushed mine. When I didn’t pull away, he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You good?” he asked quietly. “Yeah.” He kissed me. It was careful at first, the same soft pressure from the end of our date. I kissed him back and tried to stay inside the moment. His hand settled on my waist, warm through my shirt. I let it stay. When he deepened the kiss

  • FORBIDDEN HANDS: My Cold Professor    Silence

    Cherish’s POV Three days passed. Dalton did not look at me once. In every class he stood at the front of the room the same way he always had—calm, precise, completely in control of the space. He called on other students. He wrote clean lines on the board. He answered questions in that low, measured voice that used to make the back of my neck warm. When his gaze moved across the lecture hall it passed over the seat where I sat without the smallest pause, as if I had become part of the wall or the empty air. No flicker of recognition. No accidental eye contact. Nothing. I told myself this was exactly what I had asked for. I had stood in his office and said the words clearly and coldly. We were never in a relationship. Everything that happened between us was only sex. It’s over. He had accepted it. He had not followed me into the hallway. He had not texted that night or the next morning. He had not called. He had simply removed himself from every private corner of my life and lef

  • FORBIDDEN HANDS: My Cold Professor    Just Sex

    Cherish’S POV I waited until the last of the afternoon classes had ended before I went looking for him. The faculty hallway was quieter than usual. Most of the office doors were closed. When I reached his, it was half open. Dalton sat behind the desk with his sleeves rolled to the elbows, staring at a blank space on the wall. A faint bruise had already started to darken across the knuckles of his right hand. The same hand that had connected with Adrian’s jaw only a few hours earlier. He looked up when I stepped inside. Something moved across his face—relief, tension, something harder to name—but he didn’t speak first. I closed the door behind me harder than I needed to. The sound was sharp in the quiet room. “You punched him in front of half the campus.” Dalton leaned back in the chair slowly. “I know.” “People recorded it. A staff member saw it happen. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” “Yes.” The calm in his voice made the anger under my skin burn hotter. I stepped cl

  • FORBIDDEN HANDS: My Cold Professor    Breaking Point

    Cherish’s POV Adrian insisted on walking me to class the next monday. “It’s on my way,” he said when I told him he didn’t have to. “Besides, I want to see you before the weekend.” I didn’t have a strong enough reason to refuse, so I let him. We crossed the main courtyard side by side under a pale sky. He talked about a group project that was already falling apart, about a professor who still refused to post lecture slides online, about how Lila had already texted him three times asking how the date had gone. I gave short answers and tried to look like someone who had slept properly. The hollow feeling from the night before still sat under my ribs like something unfinished. The kiss had been kind. That was the problem. Kindness hadn’t been enough to quiet anything inside me. Students moved around us in loose groups, coffee cups in hand, earbuds in, laughing about things that felt very far away. Adrian slowed his steps so I wouldn’t have to rush. He was being careful with me. Co

  • FORBIDDEN HANDS: My Cold Professor    The Date

    Cherish’a POV Adrian chose a small Italian restaurant a short walk from campus. Warm lights hung over wooden tables, and the air smelled of garlic, tomato, and fresh bread. It was the kind of place that felt safe—quiet enough for real conversation, busy enough that silence never became uncomfortable. He stood when I reached the table and pulled out my chair. “You look really nice,” he said. “Thanks.” I sat down and placed my bag beside my feet. “This place is cute.” “I thought it might be better than another loud bar.” He smiled, easy and open. “Less chance of Lila appearing out of nowhere to give live commentary.” I managed a small laugh. “She does have a talent for that.” We ordered drinks first. Adrian asked what I liked and then told the waiter without making a show of it. When the glasses arrived he lifted his slightly. “To new attempts,” he said. I touched my glass to his and took a sip. The wine was decent. Everything about the evening so far was decent. That should

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