My professor I

Ever since I was little, I had always dreamt of going to college to further my education due to how I had seen movies portray college to be fun, filled with adventure, and also a place for making new friends.

Well, the movies weren’t the same as Arthris College because this was a place that suffocated the living life out of someone, making it hard to properly have freedom due to the relentless lectures, assignments that included projects, and lastly the burden of having to buy one textbook after another.

“Claudia, can you please explain to me how Peterson Edward died in the play, ‘Finding Love’?” Mr. Andrew, my professor, inquired as he pointed his index finger at me in front of the many students present in the lecture hall.

Mr. Andrew is 6’3 feet tall and a man in his late forties, and he has grey hair and a beard, but his amber eyes were so captivating that they were filled with depth. Ever since my freshman year in college, Mr. Andrew has been one of the professors that I seem to have a crush on.

Presently, I let out a loud sigh and placed some strand of hair behind my ears.

Being a brilliant student always comes with a price, and the price is that lecturers expect me to know everything. I mean literally everything.

Rising up from my seat, I forced a smile across my lips as I began to reply.

“Peterson Edward died in the play ‘Finding Love’ after spending years in a one-sided love for his best friend, Clara, who was married. He had always hoped she would leave her abusive husband, but instead, she built a life with him, had children, and eventually even grandchildren.

Peterson continued loving her in vain. When he later became ill with cancer and lay on his deathbed, he finally confessed his feelings. Clara admitted she had always felt the same but had been too afraid to say it.

Unfortunately, shortly after she kissed him, Peterson died.”

After my explanation, the whole classroom, which had been intensely quiet as everyone was listening to me, began to applaud my explanation. I chuckled slightly, and Mr. Andrew gave me a slight nod, gesturing that I take my seat, which I eventually did.

Due to my explanation, Mr. Andrew backed up my words, and after ten minutes, he dismissed the class.

“Claudia,” he called out while I was heading out of the classroom. I halted, averted my gaze toward him, and then I arched my brows.

“I need you to continue working hard, okay? You’re going to become a first-class student if you keep reading ahead of time,” he advised, and I nodded my head.

“Alright then, you can go, but don’t forget to continue being a good girl,” he purred with a warm voice that sounded seductive to my ears, prompting my cheeks to turn red.

There has always been something about the way Mr. Andrew speaks to me and how he behaves that unexpectedly seems to make my heart flutter.

He’s a married professor who has a child that is 21, which is the same age as me, but for an unknown reason, I have always seen Mr. Andrew as an attractive man.

I forced a smile across my lips and once more, with a slight nod, I excused myself from the classroom as I made my way to the library to read some books.

At the library, I started reading from 1:24 pm, so immersed in the knowledge I was acquiring that I suddenly lost track of time until the hand of someone rested on my shoulder.

Swiftly, I snapped out of it and lifted my gaze to see who had touched me. It was Mr. Andrew, my literature professor, who’s also the one in charge of the school library.

“Claudia, don’t you think it’s getting late?” Mr. Andrew inquired, and I quickly turned on my phone screen, staring at the time, which was boldly written: 10:12 pm.

“Fuck, I have lost track of time again,” I lamented in a low voice, but Mr. Andrew was able to hear my words.

He chuckled softly, then he slid his hands deep into his trouser pockets. “Do you need help with your studies?”

I shook my head. “Umm, for now, I don’t think I do,” I whispered as I began to arrange my bag, because there was no one else in the library except myself and Mr. Andrew.

He grabbed one of the chairs in the library and pulled it in front of me before taking his seat, entwining his fingers together as he intensely stared at me. There was something about the way Mr. Andrew looked at me that made my skin burn in a blissful sensation that was quite hard to put into words.

“Claudia,” Mr. Andrew began as he gently called my name. I tilted my brows, zipping my school bag as I was about to rise from the chair I had been sitting on.

“Well, Claudia, I want you to take your seat so I can give you more insight into the novel which you explained in class today,” he stated. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, Mr. Andrew continued, “I want to give you a free personal lesson so you can be able to pass my course with ease.”

I smiled and once more nodded my head, deciding that it was best for me to take my seat. I could sense that Mr. Andrew was being more friendly than usual toward me, and deep down, I felt he could sense the attraction I had toward him.

Besides, I had never had a liking for older men, but just seeing his well-combed grey hair was enough to stir something in me. No matter how I tried to shake off the feeling, Mr. Andrew always had a way of affecting me in ways I couldn’t explain.

“Sir,” I suddenly called out, deciding to question him and stop myself from having wild thoughts about him. Besides, he’s a married man and a professor at that, so I should never think of having such an encounter with him. Although, if I ever had the opportunity, I wouldn’t mind.

“Mr. Andrew, I know that in some way what I’m about to say might sound rude and uncalled for, but I do want to ask if…”

My words trailed off as I swallowed nervously, hoping I wasn’t misreading the situation or getting the wrong idea about him.

“So, umm… you have been kind to me, and you’re a caring professor, but sir, I don’t think I want us to cross that line,” I whispered, my voice filled with uncertainty.

He chuckled slightly and nodded his head. “Alright then. Although I won’t deny that I do like you, I’ll never force myself to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he explained, then slowly rose from where he was seated.

“Thanks for telling me not to cross the line,” he added softly, his lips curving into a small smile. He tried to sound neutral, but I could still sense a hint of hurt in his voice.

Mr. Andrew turned around, and just as he began to walk away from me, I stood up and, in a swift motion, my hands moved to the middle of his legs as I grabbed him and gave a rough squeeze.