All Chapters of Professor Grayson's Favorite sin : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Chapter 79Mia looked between them for a moment with the expression of someone reading a room and arriving at conclusions."Is this.." She started and stopped. She looked at Lennon and Damien. Something in Damien's face was doing the thing it did when he was not performing anything—which was to say nothing at all, which was its own legible statement. "Do you two know each other?"Lennon's answer came quickly. "He's a professor from my department."Damien said nothing. He looked at Mia with the particular blankness of a face that had decided not to perform anything at all, which was, Lennon knew from experience, significantly more frightening than visible anger."Oh," Mia said. She looked at Lennon. "Are you in trouble or something?""No. We just had something to go over. It is fine." He turned to her and said, "Can we pick this up another time? I am sorry."She looked uncertain. She looked at Damien once more, it was a q

The essay became twelve pages over three days.Lennon had not planned that. He had planned to write the five pages he had already submitted and call it done, but something about handing those pages over and not hearing anything for eighteen hours had opened a door he could not get back in front of. He kept writing. He wrote in the kitchen at six in the morning before Damien was awake and he wrote in the library between classes. e wrote in bed with his laptop at eleven at night, and each time he sat down he thought he was almost finished and each time he was wrong.The new pages were different from the first five. The first five had been about behavior. The new pages were about the thing underneath the behavior, which was harder to write about and therefore kept producing more words, the way hard things did when you finally started saying them.He wrote about the first time he had looked at Damien in a lecture hall and felt something he did not have a name for and spent the next thre

Chapter 85The door swung open and the overhead lights came on all at once, harsh and sudden.The janitor was a man of around fifty with a cart of supplies and the expression of someone who had seen many things in this building after hours and had opinions about all of them. He looked at Lennon. He looked at Damien, he looked at the single lamp they had been standing in the light of two seconds ago. He looked back at the door as if deciding whether to leave or to stand here and form conclusions.He stood there and formed conclusions."Sorry," Lennon said, which was the only word available. "We were just finishing a tutorial."The janitor said nothing. He pulled the cart inside, positioned it against the near wall, and began replacing the rubbish bin liner with the particular careful attention of a man who was not listening to anything going on around him and would remember all of it perfectly.Lennon picked up his bag f

The TikTok had been up for four hours before Archer called.Lennon found it in approximately eleven seconds. The video was forty-five seconds long, Archer at his desk, looking at the camera with the relaxed sincerity of someone who had rehearsed casualness until it looked genuine. The caption read: “my best friend is secretly dating his professor (and he's in denial).” No names or department, just the caption and Archer's face and the forty-five seconds of him saying, among other things, that his best friend was the most stubborn person he had ever met, that denial was not a sustainable personality trait.He had tagged no one. He had not needed to.The comments were doing the work on their own. “Graysler nation” appeared in the top comment by view count. The second was a screenshot of Scarlett's TikTok page with an arrow pointing at it. The third was someone who had apparently found Lennon's university athlete profile and was

The house looked the same as it always had and felt completely different.Lennon had spent eighteen years in this house and could navigate it in total darkness. Every stair, every creaking board, the exact angle to pull the kitchen door so it did not catch on the frame. He knew which rooms his father used at which hours and which silences meant moods. He had learned all of it the way children learned geography, not by studying it but by existing inside it long enough that it became part of how he moved.Walking through it now felt like wearing a coat that no longer fit.The hallway had the same framed photographs it had always had.Family portraits taken by professionals, everyone arranged in the correct order, expressions calibrated to communicate the right things. There was one from when Lennon was about twelve where he was standing slightly apart from his parents, his younger self had not understood why that photograph always made him feel something he could not name.He underst