Is Aslan The Professor Novels & Stories

“I suggest you find another seat, Marcus, because if I get up it’ll be to whoop your ass.” “Mr. Ortega, take a seat before I kick you out.” The Professor, I couldn’t place his name because we’d talked to all of them, stood at the podium. His shoulder length black hair tied at the nape of his neck, one hand shoved into his pocket and the other held his glasses. Mr. Sanders called him the Pretty Boy Professor. Apparently, the girls in the school all secretly crushed on him. Marcus chuckled lightly but went and took a seat on the opposite side of the classroom. Ansley lowered her head and covered her forehead with her palm, slowing sinking lower into her seat.

"Krester Mikami. Isn't he the doctor from back then?” His name was on the list of doctors who had researched Aslan's body. That explained why Aslan didn't like being around him. Skylar continued reading the documents until he discovered a shocking fact that stunned him. "What the fuck is this?!" ***

Not from my pride. He nods, slow and deliberate. The room seems to hold its breath, charged with something I can’t name. I need to leave. Delilah was right: this man could be my downfall if I’m not careful. Crushing on a professor is a disaster waiting to happen. One mistake and I’m screwed. “Thank you again,” I say, pointing toward the card on his desk, keeping my tone professional. “I’ll make sure my profile is in your email before the next lesson.”

And how this award if he won, would be a pretty important first step if the Professor intended to transition into politics. “Tyson Shaw has begun to appear more often again,” Gilbert Dankworth said, and Myra felt her eyes widen. Why was her father’s name coming up here? “That man..” She heard the professor’s voice, and she frowned at the hint of irritation she heard there. “I don’t think he is up to any good. He has been seen twice now with Levi Brienstien.” The Professor audibly gasped and Myra and Greg shared a look. But they heard no more about the subject because the Professor's uncle suddenly said he had to go and ended the call.

Stepping almost directly between them, Yousef’s deep voice boomed through the corridor, making the entire hallway freeze: "Miss Hala... the hallway is not a lounge for side conversations! The lecture is about to begin, and student gatherings here are strictly prohibited." Turning to Amir with a stern look laced with intense, masculine dominance, he added coldly: "And you, sir... if you are a new student, make your way to the lecture hall immediately and stop delaying the others!" Amir felt the sharp, deliberate edge in the professor's tone. Raising an eyebrow with a subtle, challenging smirk, he looked back at Hala and said smoothly: "We'll talk later, Hala."

The halls are a bit quiet, with only two to three students pacing the corridors. "Four." Azalea peaked inside, noticing the semi-empty classroom. She's sure she counted about ten students. Her eyes then landed on her professor. He's dressed like any other male professor. Khaki pants, white button up, circular glasses, all the usual. Only thing that's different about him and the others is that he's got just a few strands of grey and he looks like the gym's best friend. He set the marker down and turned to the class. "So when you here about Alberto Dephonso you think-

I turned the corner near the older faculty offices and froze. The door to Professor Harlan’s office, an older economics lecturer known for being strict and married, was slightly ajar. Moans and the unmistakable sound of flesh slapping flesh spilled out. I should have kept walking. Instead, morbid curiosity pulled me closer. I peeked through the gap.

The girls murmurred and some girls even giggled like they are admiring the person in front. The boys who wants to introduce themselves to me went back to their places so I can now clearly see the professor who had just talk. But my face turns cold when I saw the very unexpected man. My hands and forehead become sweaty. I got pinned by my seat and I almost swallowed my own tongue! Oh my gosh! It can't be! Damn! Damn! Damn! "Good morning class. My name is Dr. Alqamar San Diego and I will be your professor in Biochemistry for the whole year,"

Annabelle whispered encouragingly and I took a deep breath before rising to my feet. “I think the boy was a coward. He should have pursued whatever he felt for his friend’s sister, rather than give up the way he did.” Something flashed in the professor’s eyes and his lips curved into a smile that disappeared almost as soon as it appeared. Looking around the auditorium, he said, “anyone else willing to share their thoughts?" A couple of hands went up and he considered them for a few seconds before pointing at Oliver. “Mr. Newton." Oliver rose with a smile, his eyes trained on me. “I don't agree with what Eliana said."

I roll my eyes as I quickly follow after my professor who seemed to want to run away from them. I reach him as he unlocked the doors to his office, “After you.” He says with a sweep of hand. I giggle, glad to be alone with him again. “I do like a gentleman.” “Too bad what you got was a gentle professor right?” he says as he locks the door behind him. “Did I get a gentle professor or a naughty professor?” He slides up to me, our bodies barely touching, our eyes drinking each other up. “Which do you want now? I can be your gentle professor, or your naughty professor.” He says as he locks me up effortlessly and plops me down on his mahogany table.