How To Read Novels Like A Professor Notes Novels & Stories

Maybe it was just honesty. I pushed into my first class—Literature and Modern Prose. The room smelled like old paper and chalk dust, a softer kind of world compared to the hallways. I slid into my seat near the back, tugging my shirt hem lower to hide the little cotton tail at my spine, flattening my ears in hopes they wouldn’t give me away. My professor started speaking, voice a steady drone about symbolism and unreliable narrators. I tried to focus, I really did. But every line of poetry she read felt tangled with thoughts of Thorne.

Shadows flickered over the walls like breathing things. “Sit,” Adrian said. Theo obeyed. His heartbeat was too loud in his ears. Adrian walked around the desk, picking up Theo’s old paper — the same one from that night — and placed it in front of him. “Read the first paragraph aloud.” Theo hesitated. “Now?” “Now.” He began reading, voice low, uneven. His words trembled in the quiet, but Adrian didn’t interrupt. He only leaned closer, each word seeming to pull him nearer until Theo could feel the professor’s breath against his cheek.

“Oh, that? Didn’t you get the mail? Professor Brown retired to his hometown. Professor Sebastian got transferred as his replacement. He’s hot isn’t he? That’s the reason why you were so distracted…” I zoned out of what she was saying. My mind raced to the night before. The bar, the intense gazes, the reckless comfort of a stranger who wasn’t supposed to matter beyond dawn. A one-night mistake I had decided to get rid of my mind completely except he was here right now and he was my professor. Was the universe playing a cruel joke on me? Why wasn’t anything going my way?

NORA I’ve always thought college would be a place of dull lectures, endless assignments, and the occasional cafeteria disaster, in fact it has been for a while now, until sitting in Professor Cross’s class turned everything upside down. I should be taking notes, focusing on algorithms and coding syntax, but all I can do is watch him. His pen moves fast across the board, black ink forming symbols I barely understand, and yet, the way his brow furrows when he explains a concept makes my stomach twist.

I'll make you a storyteller. "It was a long complicated story," I answered here. "I won't mind." It's like saying it excitedly. Wow, this has no common sense either. I don't want to tell a story, I want to tell a story. "Open page 452, chapter 10 and give me the difference between Haluim and Ugranuim." Suddenly, our professor who had just entered said that he was opening a book. We didn't compete with each other in the unfolding, and I was also infected by the panic that happened because our prof in Ability Control looked fierce.

' She thought to herself. With that in mind, she started to open her notebook before taking notes in the book when the professor started his lecture in front of the class.

Damien stepped back in, holding my notebook in his large hand. “Looking for this, Miss Blake?” His voice was low, professional, but there was something in his eyes something searching. I walked over, keeping distance between us. “Yes. Thank you, Professor. I must have forgotten it in the rush.” He extended it toward me. Our fingers brushed as I took it. Just for a second. Electricity shot up my arm. I pulled back quickly. “You’ve been… quieter lately,” he said, almost casually, but his gaze didn’t waver. “Everything alright with your studies?”

I wanted him to push me against the bookshelves hike up my skirt and fuck me senseless right here with the door unlocked so anyone could walk in. Instead he flipped through the pages making notes with his free hand resting near my knee. “This section needs more depth. Describe the ache and the actual physical pull. Like how your nipples peak when I look at you the way they are now. Or the way my cock is throbbing listening to your dirty little mouth.” I laughed soft and nervous but excited as hell. “See? That’s the wisdom I admire. You know exactly how to make the words hit between the legs. Keep guiding me Professor. I’m all yours for this.”

Every step was a reminder of Sebastian, my muscles ached in the best, most delicious way, a lingering soreness that made my breath hitch every time I moved. "Alright, settle down," The Professor called out, his voice a boring drone that usually put me to sleep in ten minutes. "Turn your textbooks to page 342. We're discussing the socio-economic impact of the post-war industrial boom." I opened my book, but the words were swimming before me. I couldn't focus. The scent of Sebastian’s cologne still clung to my clothes, mixing with the smell of sex that I was paranoid everyone could smell. I kept expecting someone to turn around, point a finger, and shout, He just got fucked in the bathroom!

This time I stop to get a bouquet, his room needs a little color, and I have no idea what kinds of things he likes so I get different kinds of pastries. The nurse I meet is different, but she also has a welcoming smile on her face. “He’s a bit groggy today, and chose to stay inside.” “That’s okay.” The Prof. is reading one of his magic books, and takes his time lifting his eyes. There’s a brief moment of confusion in his eyes before recognition sparks to life. “You’ll have to forgive me, I had to read the lines a couple times before I understood what that means.” he shakes his head,