Professor Merrythought Novels & Stories

"It's okay, you don't need to worry about anything. I would like for us to have more discussions sometime later?" "Yeah, my name is Meredith. I am the youngest professor at New York University; your husband doesn't know this yet; I'm trying to spring this up on him because he challenged me not to be able to have a tangible result after one of our numerous fights." She confided in me.

The next second, the old professor stood up and walked towards Catherine. "Are you Catherine Swann?" Catherine's first impression of the professor was not bad. He looked at people with sincerity and wore simple clothes. He looked like someone who specialized in research. Out of respect for the elder, Catherine took the initiative to stand up. "I'm Catherine!" The old professor also had a good impression of Catherine and took the initiative to introduce himself to her. "Nice to meet you, Catherine. I'm Marshall Hartley, a professor of electronic engineering at Styre University. Do you have the intention to apply for our Styre University?"

“Prof. Milford is coming. Act natural.” I followed his gaze and nearly fell off my chair. Professor August Milford, one of the killer professors in Columbia, walked up the stairs and stopped by our table. I did not have to look around to realize that all eyes were deadset on us. It may have only been a week for me to breathe and live like a college student, but even I knew that the professor usually only wandered about at the podium, at the front of the classroom.

Before she can think of any more possibilities or work herself into a greater fury, Professor McCall speaks up beside her, his voice carrying that same condescending tone she had grown to despise. "Are you happy now? I have fulfilled your wish. I am getting retired." Raven stops dead in her tracks and frowns in confusion at the professor's words. Happy? Fulfilled her wish? What is he talking about? She stares at him, trying to process what he just said. The box, the plaques... it suddenly makes sense. But why is he saying it like she had something to do with it? Shocked by what he's saying, she feels a mix of relief and suspicion.

Like he doesn't realize how much weight it carries here. "Mariah," I answer, even though he already knew. I just never confirmed his—until now. Jacek's mouth barely moves, but I catch the faintest easing at the corners—a ghost of a smile. The professor calls for volunteers to share. Someone in the front row talks about phone notifications and productivity. Laughter echoes—bright, brittle. I stare down at my iPad and sketch a quick figure: a body mid-leap, suspended in the empty space between motion and stillness.

Paisley’s ass, which I still find hard to believe. Professor Meyers delves into the first speech we’re going to cover. He fields a few questions. Then discusses what happens next. Nothing too heavy for a first day. And yet, I glance over again, and find Piper taking notes. Scribbling something in her book that catches my attention more than the professor droning on.

Professor Morsa's face was still quite pale and mentally tired. Professor Morsa is the one who teaches the subject Of Werewolf Magic Analysis. Because they hadn't received new books and modules, Hana, Henry, and Jackson didn't carry any items. Even so, Professor Morsa didn't say a word to them until the end of the session. They don't know how Sir. Powen convinced Professor Morsa, but he hadn't accepted Hana, Henry, and Jackson's presence in the class. The first class at D.Ruck ended in boredom and frustration.

This was the first time she was noticing him since she stepped in and for the next few seconds, she found herself unable to take her eyes off me. He was incredibly hot. Her gaze shifted back to Artemis who was staring intently at the professor. “You must really like this course, huh?” She tried to start small talk with him. Those steel grey eyes flickered to her for a brief second before shifting back to the professor. Melinda's gaze shifted to the Professor again. The man seemed so engrossed in his teaching. Professor Lucian Meyers. She heard so much about him from the students. He was the only one in the whole of Kingston who dared to stand up to Artemis. In other words, he was a hero.

"I'm not signing anything until I know what it is." "It's your life raft," one of the men in suits said. He didn't smile. "I'm Mr. Miller. I handle the Professor's legal affairs. These papers state that you are a Junior Fellow for the Blackwood Archive Initiative." "A Junior Fellow?" I looked at Caspian. "I'm a student. I don't even have my degree yet."

At ten thirty at night, the tiered lecture hall at Saint Chimera University was still brightly lit. The students were starving and furious, yet not a single one dared to complain. The source of their fear, Professor Sarek, the man destined to become the future king of the werewolves, stood at the front of the room. At that moment, his red eyes were locked onto his phone screen, his expression dark. On the screen was the last message he had received: [I’m sorry. You’re far too aggressive. I’m afraid of you. Please don’t look for me anymore.]