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Chapter 4- Almost kiss

Author: Jasmine
last update publish date: 2026-06-08 00:08:02

ALEENA's POV

I blinked repeatedly, feeling Professor Lorcan's stare on me.

I cleared my throat and tore my gaze away from his, and looked down at Mira who was still day dreaming.

“Hey, come off it Mira.” I nudged her with my elbow. “He's not that hot you know.” I said, trying to convince myself otherwise.

“Are you serious Leena, he's not hot?” Mira said, raising her brows. “I mean can't you see how good he looks today? It looks like he put in extra effort today and he's trying to charm all the girls.”

I turned back to look at him, and I couldn't help but admit that he was extra handsome today. He wore a golden brown sweater with the sleeves slightly pulled up, revealing a sumptuous amount of his geometric sleeve tattoo, and it was paired with matching camouflage pants and sneakers. His blonde hair fell across his face, giving him a youthful vibe. My heart stirred in my chest as I forced myself to stop looking at him.

“Yeah, whatever Mira.” I said and brought out my notebook from my bag, trying as much as possible to avoid his gaze.

Professor Lorcan started his lecture, and I kept my eyes on my notebook all through, my hands moving across the page taking notes that were not necessary, and I knew at the back of my mind that I would never read them. I was just pretending to be absorbed in the lecture, and it was clear enough for anyone to notice if they were paying close attention to me.

But someone was actually paying attention to me.

I felt the piercing gaze on me, a warmth spread across my skin as I felt a prickle at the back of my neck. 

I looked up at Professor Lorcan, but he was not looking. His eyes were on his notes, his voice steady.

Then Mira whispered into my ears, “Why the hell was Professor Lorcan staring at you like that Leena?”

“Huh?” I turned to face Mira, my brows knitted together, “What do you mean by—”

“He's coming here Leena, stop talking.” She said in between her teeth.

I did not hear what she said and before I could ask further, the strong fragrance of cologne hit my nostrils. 

I raised my head and met Professor Lorcan, standing in front of my desk, his gaze hovering over me.

“Miss Marsh,” he said, and the sound of my name from his lips made my stomach drop, “I see that you've been quite distracted from the beginning of the class.” He shoved his hands in his pocket. “Could you teach the class on what you know?”

My throat went dry instantly as I pressed my lips together and kept looking at him.

“About wh—what?” I stuttered.

“Explain to the class what you understand about Foucault's position on the relationship between power and knowledge.” He said, his gaze not leaving mine.

I knew the answer, I knew how to explain it. I had read the assignment several times, I had many jottings on it, because I was a scholarship student and I could not afford to look stupid in front of my peers.

But as I stood up, my lips were instantly sealed. I couldn’t even form the words with Professor Lorcan standing in front of me, his grey eyes, completely steady, locked on me.

I opened my mouth twice to say something, but the words kept dying in my throat.

“Miss Marsh?” He said tilting his head, with a small smirk on his face, like he knew exactly why I couldn't answer and he had been expecting that reaction from me.

The room went quiet—fifty students turned to look at me, and I felt the weight of their attention pressing down on my shoulders. But his attention was heavier—I felt it tightening around my throat, making it difficult to breathe.

“It—”I stopped and cleared my throat. “The relationship creates a kind of—" I stopped again.

Xavier made a sound somewhere behind me. A satisfactory sound, like he had been waiting to witness this kind of moment for a long time.

“I don’t know.” I finally said.

“Hmmm. You're always spaced out during my classes, Miss Marsh.” He said, his voice returning to its original coldness. “See me in my office after this class.” Then he walked back to the podium.

I sat down, my heart beating hard against my rib cage.

“Damn Leena. You were roasted by Professor Untouchable.” Mira said, loud enough for me to hear while leaning into me.

I scoffed and pushed her aside, staring forward with a blank expression as I crossed my arm.

—---

The class ended in fifteen minutes, and I stayed in class for a while before I stood up to pack my things. I did not want to talk to anyone. I just wanted to get back to my dorm, close the door, lie on my bed and try to understand what happened earlier.

But the universe had other plans—I had to see Professor Lorcan first.

I walked out the door and I was grateful I didn't meet Mira. She had stepped out after the class, and I took that as my cue to leave before she came back.

While I was still walking, someone pulled me aside.

I massaged my temples. “What is it Mira?”

“What is going on between you and Professor Lorcan?” Mira said, narrowing her eyes.

I shrugged. “Nothing is going on between us.”

“Oh come on, Leena, I'm not stupid. Professor Lorcan doesn't ask questions in class, and he was so focused on you.” She looked at me intently, “That's new for someone who barely looks at anyone during classes.”

I sighed, “Something happened yesterday, Mira and it had to do with Professor Lorcan.”

“About Professor Lorcan?” Her eyebrows lifted. “What happened?”

I hesitated for a second because I had not yet told Mira about the detention. I had not told her about how I failed Professor Lorcan's course with a huge F, and why I failed it. But she was my best friend, and she was looking at me with those big brown eyes and I could not afford to lie to her.

“He gave me detention,” I said, not stating the reason why. “For failing his course.”

Mira's eyes widened in shock. “Detention? Like after school detention? C’mon, we're in college.”

“His version of it, in his penthouse.”

Mira froze. “His penthouse? The one on top of the library?”

“Yep.” I nodded.

“Leena.” She grabbed my arm, her fingers digging into my sleeve. “That's not a detention. That's something else. Do you know how many girls would kill for an invitation to that penthouse?”

“Yeah well I'm not them, I’m just there to study.” I said and the lie tasted bitter in my mouth.

Mira studied my face for a long moment, and I watched her process what I had told her. “Just be careful girl.” she said finally.

I smiled, “Of course, I will.”

Mira nodded and let it go, her hand looped through my arm, as she walked me to the entrance of Professor Lorcan's office and went back to the dorm.

—--

I knocked on the door, and his voice replied from behind the door, “Come in.”

I pushed the door and walked in.

“Lock the door, Aleena.”

I locked the door and turned to face him. “You asked to see me Professor?” I said, my voice coming out steadier than intended.

“It's Lorcan when we are alone.” He stood up, “You ignored my text this morning, why?”

I straightened up, “I'm not entitled to replying anyone's text. From an unknown number to be exact.”

“Really?” He said and started moving around the table, towards me slowly. “So you weren’t also entitled to answering my question in class?”

I gulped, “I wasn't paying attention.”

“And why were you not paying attention Aleena?” He stopped inches from me. “Was it because of me?” He moved closer and tucked a loose hair behind my ear.

I was rooted on the spot as my cheeks flushed with embarrassment while I remembered what I did last night. “It wasn't because of you.”

“Really Aleena?” He said and trailed his finger down my cheeks, the sensation sending a chill down my spine. “With the way your cheeks are red, I could guess what you were up to last night.”

I stepped back, “What do you really want Lorcan? You failed me on purpose and gave me a detention, so how is all of these going to improve my grade?”

He moved closer to me, his hand moved around my waist and pulled me closer. “Your grade is not a problem, Aleena, I just want you to stop pretending.” He said, his voice deep and smooth as he leaned down and kissed a spot behind my ear.

My hand tightened on the strap of my bag, as my breath caught in my chest. Every instinct I had told me to push him away, to tell him I was not interested in this game he was playing, to escape before he could see whatever was written on my face, but my body did not listen.

He pulled me even closer, so close that his hard chest pressed against my body, his hand on my waist slipped under my sweater and rubbed my bare back. 

I pressed my legs tightly as he moved his lips from behind my ear, down to my neck then back up to my face as he kissed the side of my lips.

I could not bear it any longer, then I moved my face to the side, wanting to feel the full warmth of his lips against mine, but he suddenly pulled back.

I stood there frozen—my lips still parted—my whole body on fire, every place his hands had touched still tingling. 

I wanted to grab him by that stupid golden brown sweater and kiss him myself. I wanted to scream at him for making me feel this way. But I could not move. He had taken all the power out of my legs and left me standing there like a fool.

His grey eyes were dark, his breathing uneven, and he was looking at me like he wanted to devour me whole.

He smiled slowly, like he knew exactly what he was doing to me. Then he walked towards his table, picked up a red box and came back to where I was standing and handed me the box. 

“Take this, wear whatever is inside for tomorrow's detention.” He said.

“What if I don't?” I said and collected the box from him.

He smiled, “I know you will.”

“And how sure are you?” I looked down at the box.

“Very sure. Because you want to know what happens next as much as I do.” He said and walked back to his seat.

I left his office and went back to my dorm and opened the box—it was a silk red robe.

Mira wasn't around, that was good. Because I couldn't explain how a silk robe had to do with studying in Professor Lorcan's office.

That night, while Mira was already asleep, I lay in the dark with the silk robe pressed against my chest. I closed my eyes and felt his lips on my skin again, the way his hand had slipped under my sweater, the way he had pulled back just before I could taste him.

I wanted to stop pretending that I did not want him badly. And that was the most dangerous thing I had ever wanted in my life.

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