The Professor Novels & Stories

“What the fuck was that for?” He looked almost amused. “You looked like you needed it.” “I did not need a hug,” I said through gritted teeth. “The professor’s an asshole,” he said simply. “You shouldn’t let assholes ruin your mood.” I stared at him, half angry, half confused. “You are so obnoxious you know that right?.” “I’m not,” he said with an even tone. “I'm just saying. You shouldn’t give people like him that much power over you. He’s a miserable old man who probably cries when he looks at his paycheck.”

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.”

But that would make him I was trying to cosy up to him. This was driving me insane. I made my way back to my dorm room. Audrey was already there. “Lily, how was class?” “It was odd” “Odd?” “Yes” “How?” “You know that my young professor I told you about?” “Yes, why?” “Well he took a sick leave today” “Sick leave? I thought he was in school yesterday” “He was, that's why it's so strange” “Wait you mentioned something about people whispering yesterday” “I did”

We made our way to two empty seats at the back. “Hey,” Liam whispered moving over for us to sit next to him. “Get lost asshole,” Macy retorted before I could say a word in response. She held my hand and made me sit. “What is going on? Why do you look so pale?” she whispered. My gaze never left his. I gulped. “Why is he here? Where is the arts professor?” “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…”

He was trying to act like he didn't care, but his eyes were full of fire. I reached for my chalkboard. I like the view here, I wrote. Huxley chuckled. "A woman of few words. I like that. But I prefer to hear a lady’s voice. Tell me, is the Professor treating you well? Does he let you leave the house?" I just pointed to the "Junior Fellow" badge on the table. "He’s very protective of his work," Huxley said, looking at Caspian. "Maybe too protective. You know, Blackwood, there are rumors that this isn't a research project at all. People are saying you’re just hiding a scandal."

“Professor, let’s stop here. My brain can’t take it anymore.” I complain to Professor Fortez. My temple is pulsing painfully. I reached my limit already. This Professor of mine is a monster. He is very strict while teaching me. He doesn’t like so many red marks on my paper. He wants everything to be perfect.

Daffodil felt a warmth enter her body at the friendly expression of the man. She waited for him to walk over. “Hello. Would you like some help? We’re yet to get someone to take over responsibility of the library. I’m Professor Theodore.” Daffodil blinked and fumbled with the sleeve of her shirt, hoping her Dream Acorn stayed hidden. He didn’t show any traces of Half-Myth up close except his scent and Daffodil wondered if she was confusing herself. The professor’s gaze shifted down to her fumbling hands and then back to her face.

He says, annoyance latched to his tone. What's his fucking problem? Tessa holds my hands and nods her head gently. I sigh and we both walk out of the door. "Why does he always keep lecturing?", I grimace. "Maybe he's a lecturer at this Academy?" Tessa replies. "Hmm. Maybe you're right." I think over it. I don't know half of the Proffesors here, except Professor Sheila. That brings me to the point… "What exactly do they teach here?" I ask.

"W-Why?" I stuttered. I have swallowed the rice even though I haven't chewed it much yet. I think I'm gonna get choked. She smirked. "He's our professor in Algebra.” I was dumbfounded. He really is a professor. I couldn't understand why I felt nervous and scared. Did I really think he would go to school to study again? Fuck, I just want to transfer to another school. My gut is telling me that I should stay away from Rajiv. I feel like something bad is going to happen whenever we bump into each other.

I can see each muscle as she flexes, her calves high and tight as she balances on her four-inch heels. Just as I am sure one more step will make me fall over dead, the professor makes one last turn before stopping before a solid wood door. On a brass placard placed at about eye level, the word with the name 'Dr. Delilah M Davis is engraved. The number 225 is listed just above it with smaller, matching bras. Pulling a key from an inner jacket pocket, she jams it into the lock, twists, and with a quiet little click it swings open. Without saying a word, Professor Davis disappears inside.