BREAKDOWN

THIAGO'S POV

Of all the things I expected when I walked into my classroom that morning, Ariana Castillo sitting in the third row wasn't one of them.

For a second, I genuinely thought I was imagining it.

Ariana Castillo.

I knew her name because I'd seen it the night before. She'd been sleepingly struggling to find her keys when her wallet slipped from her hands. Her student ID had fallen onto the ground before I could stop it.

I'd picked it up for her.

Ariana Castillo.

At the time, it had just been a name for a stranger. Now it belonged to the girl sitting in my classroom.

The same girl in that tiny little red dress from the club. The same girl I'd driven home the night before. The same girl who had climbed onto my lap and nearly destroyed what little self-control I had left.

And now she was my student.

I should have put distance between us the moment I walked into the classroom and saw her.

Instead, I was here wondering why that suddenly felt impossible.

The smart thing would have been to keep my interactions with her strictly professional. To forget about last night and pretend she was just another student in a room full of students.

That had been the plan until she looked at me and said, “Distract me.”

The words hit me so hard in a way I never expected.

I didn't know if it was because I knew exactly what she meant.

Or because some selfish part of me knew exactly how easy it would be to give her what she was asking for.

My jaw tightened.

Rain continued tapping against the windows while thunder rolled somewhere in the distance. She was obviously still not thinking clearly.

The trembling in her hands hadn't completely stopped. Her eyes were still glassy, her breathing uneven. Whatever had happened to her that made her react like this wasn't normal. People didn't fall apart like that because they disliked thunderstorms.

Something had happened to her.

Something bad enough that years later, the sound of rain could still bring her to tears.

My chest tightened.

Her fingers tightened around my shirt. I didn't think she even realized she was doing it.

Her gaze dropped briefly before lifting back to mine. “I know.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I know you're my professor.”

I went still.

“I know this isn't right, but…” The rest of the sentence died in her throat. She inhaled sharply, and I watched her struggle to find the words. Another crack of thunder echoed outside and she flinched hard enough to make something unpleasant twist inside my chest.

“I just...” She swallowed. “I don't want to think right now.”

For a moment, none of us spoke.

Then her fingers slowly loosened from my shirt, as though she'd finally realized what she was doing.

A tear slipped down her cheek as she wiped it away immediately, feeling embarrassed. “Just forget it.”

My eyes stayed on her.

She forced out a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. “I'm sorry for bothering you.”

The sentence instantly irritated me.

She sounded so sincere like she genuinely thought she was inconveniencing me.

She pushed herself off the couch, and I stood too.

The large living room suddenly felt smaller.

Ariana avoided my eyes as she walked toward the door, and every logical thought in my head told me to let her go.

She was my student.

This entire situation was already complicated enough. The smartest thing I could do was open that door and send her home but my feet refused to move.

She didn't look okay. She looked exhausted like she was holding herself together with whatever strength she had left.

It bothered me more than the fact that she was standing in my apartment wearing my shirt.

It was ridiculously big on her. The sleeves covered part of her hands, and the hem stopped around her mid-thigh.

I looked away before my thoughts could go anywhere they shouldn't.

She reached for the handle, and suddenly, the sky exploded. A deafening crack of thunder ripped through the air.

Even a normal human who wasn't scared of thunder would surely flinch.

Ariana screamed loudly.

The sound tore straight through me.

Her body folded instantly as she dropped into a crouch beside the door, both hands flying over her ears. “No!”

My heart slammed against my ribs. “Ms. Castillo —”

“No! No! No!” Her entire body shook violently as tears streamed down her face.

This wasn't fear. It wasn't anxiety or even panic. It was pure terror. She looked like someone being dragged back into a memory she'd spent years trying to forget.

I crossed the room in seconds. “Ms. Castillo.” She didn't hear me or maybe she couldn't.

Another sob tore out of her. “Stop please...” Her voice sounded really broken. Then… “Mom...”

Everything inside me froze.

For a second, I just stared at her.

Mom?

What the hell happened to you?

“Ms. Castillo.” I called out again.

She was crying too hard. Her breathing was becoming erratic, her entire body trembling uncontrollably.

I crouched beside her. “Ms. Castillo.”

Still nothing.

Carefully, I gripped her jaw and turned her face toward me. “Eyes on me, Ariana.”

Her eyes finally found mine and Christ… I'd never seen anyone look that terrified before.

She looked like she was somewhere else entirely, reliving something painful.

My stomach tightened. “Ariana.”

A fresh sob escaped her. “Make it stop.” Her fingers grabbed my shirt again, clinging desperately.

“Please...” Her voice cracked. “It hurts so bad.”

My grip tightened instinctively.

Fuck.

A few minutes ago I'd been trying to remind myself that she was my student. Now all I could think about was how much pain was hiding behind those tears.

Without thinking, I pulled her toward me as she collided with my chest.

For half a second, her body went rigid then she broke completely. Her hands fisted my shirt. Tears soaked through the fabric while her shoulders shook violently against me.

“It's okay.” The words left my mouth automatically. I hadn't even planned to say them.

“You’re safe. Just breathe.”

One hand settled against her back, moving slowly and steadily. She felt so small in my hands.

I hated how helpless she sounded.

Outside, thunder continued rolling through the sky, but little by little her breathing started evening out. The trembling eased, and her grip loosened slightly.

I lost count of the minutes that had passed. I just stayed there, and kept my hand moving across her back.

A soft sound escaped her, almost a sigh. Then her body relaxed completely.

I looked down and realised she was asleep.

A strange sense of relief settled inside me. At least she wasn't crying anymore.

Carefully, I slid one arm beneath her knees and another around her back.

She barely stirred when I lifted her. She just made a small sleepy sound before instinctively snuggling closer.

My jaw tightened.

This wasn't helping, not even a little.

I carried her down the hallway toward the guest room.

The apartment felt strangely quiet now. The storm had stopped, and the rain fell lighter now.

I lowered her onto the bed as gently as possible. She shifted slightly, turning her head against the pillow.

For the first time all night, she looked peaceful.

Her lashes rested softly against her cheeks, long and slightly damp, shadowing her skin. A few strands of hair stuck loosely to her forehead and temple. Her lips were slightly parted, all that tension finally gone from her face.

I stood there watching the steady rise and fall of her chest.

My gaze drifted downward, straight to the oversized shirt she was wearing.

My shirt.

The sleeves covered half her hands as the fabric swallowed her completely.

My stomach did a weird twist.

I looked away immediately.

Fuck!

Get a grip.

I grabbed the duvet from the foot of the bed and pulled it carefully over her.

She stirred, and murmured something unintelligible. Then she snuggled deeper into the pillow, fast asleep.

I let out a slow breath.

What happened to you, Ariana?

The question lingered as the image of her curled up on the floor refused to leave my head. Neither did the look in her eyes or the way she'd begged me to make it stop.

I knew there was a story behind it.

A bad one.

I looked at her for another second before forcing myself toward the door.

This didn't change anything.

She was still my student, and nothing about tonight changed that.

A storm had triggered some kind of traumatic memory and she'd had a breakdown. I happened to be there when it happened.

That was all.

Any decent person would have helped her. Any decent neighbor would have helped her.

I was reading too much into it.

With that thought, I switched off the bedside lamp and headed for the door.

My hand paused on the handle. Against my better judgment, I glanced back one last time.

She was still asleep, curled beneath the duvet looking peaceful and safe.

I exhaled slowly, and shook my head.

This meant nothing.

I closed the door behind me. And still, I didn’t feel like I was done looking at her.