Novel & Cerita Professor Arc

– he asked one of the spectators “He needed a ride.” – the man in orange shirt said The professor nodded and walked towards Damon. He couldn’t deny it. Seeing what just happened, he knew who the leader of the pack was. It was this man in front of him. And it was his curiosity that wanted to have a connection with this man. “Hello, sir. My name is Professor Jonathan Dela Cruz. I teach Folklore at a university. If you need anything, I’m ready to assist you.” Damon frowned. Folklore?

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.”

A wave of murmurs spread across the hall, but it sounded distant like I was underwater. He stepped forward, calmly. “Hello everyone. I’m Thiago De la Cruz—your new professor.” His voice, that same deep voice that asked if I wanted to sleep against his chest all night. My grip tightened around my pen. I couldn’t breathe properly. Then his eyes met mine. I inhaled sharply as my stomach flipped. A flicker of recognition and shock flashed across his face. His hand tightened slightly around the marker, just for a second but it disappeared just as fast. His expression went blank again.

It was her professor who had his stringent expression hovering on his face. "Yes, professor. Darius," Arianna replied in a subtle tone. "Do you want to complete your project or not?" He asked her with a solid expression. "Yes, Professor," she forced the biting words out of her crushing throat. Looking at the vexed assertion, her professor sighed. "He is the best in the city, Ms Reynolds. He may be an arsehole but he is a maven." He candidly admitted, making Arianna chuckle at his remark. Chuckling to himself, the professor cleared his throat. "Sorry about that. Please meet Damon right away," he politely advised her before exiting the cafeteria.

"It's... Professor Lucas." Gina's jaw dropped, her eyes widening in shock as she shrieked. "Professor Lucas?! As in the hot history professor?" She nodded, avoiding her gaze. "Yes, Gin. I know it sounds crazy, but I can't deny the strong connection I feel towards him. It's like a magnetic pull that I can't resist." Gina blinked rapidly, trying to process the revelation. "Marcie, he's your professor! This is... complicated. Are you sure about this?"

The sprawling campus seemed overwhelming, its tall, stately buildings buzzing with students hurrying off to their classes. It was a new beginning, yet her mind was preoccupied with one thing. Noah. He wasn’t just Noah here. He was Professor Alabaster. She couldn’t let anyone know about the secret they shared, the dangerous line they walked. She swallowed hard, gripping the strap of her bag, willing herself to focus on something other than the magnetic pull of her forbidden relationship. She was a college student now, and today, she would meet new people, sit through her first lectures, and blend in as if her life wasn’t a tangled web of desire and deception.

I punctuate each word with a sharp poke to the chest. “I don’t know what you are talking about!” he starts to panic. "Yes, I remember you from three weeks ago but what are the odds that some hook-up from Sacramento would also be here in Santa Cruz?" he is starting to hyperventilate as he struggles to explain himself. “I had no idea you’d be my professor when I signed up for classes. How could I, I didn't even know your name?" I can smell the truth in his words. If he were lying, I'd taste it in his fear.

Was something else coming? We entered the Arcane building and made our way to Professor Hawthorne's classroom. It was a large, circular room with high ceilings and walls lined with ancient texts and mystical artifacts. The other students were already settling into their seats, and I noticed several of them sporting new jewelry that glittered in the morning light. Professor Hawthorne entered a few minutes later, her long gray hair braided down her back and her sharp eyes taking in the room with obvious interest. She was one of the older faculty members, someone who'd been at Lunaris longer than most students had been alive.

“Sure. What do you need?” “I’m interested in Professor Elena Thompson’s lectures,” Ren said smoothly. “She gave a fascinating talk this morning, and I’d like to know if she’s teaching any upcoming seminars or classes that are open to visitors.” The man smiled, clearly pleased by the interest. “Professor Thompson does have a talent for captivating an audience,” he said. “She’s leading a seminar on comparative mythology next week. It’s a bit niche, but if you’re interested in folklore, it’s worth attending.”

I grab the remote, flip to Channel 3. My face fills the screen, a photo from the university website. Then Mateo’s. Then the headline: PROFESSOR’S SECRET STUDIO: STUDENT CLAIMS COERCION IN NUDE MODELING SCANDAL I feel the room spinning. “That’s not…I never claimed…” “Keep watching,” Sofia says. The anchor continues: “In an exclusive interview, an anonymous student alleges Professor Mateo Sandoval of the University of Barcelona created a pattern of inappropriate relationships, using his position to pressure female students into modeling nude for private art projects.”