Teach Her | Cillian Murphy x Reader

32. Waiting

July 6

5:49 Pm

8 Months Later

I placed down the last cardboard box that held all of my belongings, clothes and knick-knacks spilling out onto my bedroom floor. I stared down at the box, sighing quietly to myself, realizing how crazy my first year of university was - so many things happened that I didn't expect to happen, things that I couldn't even imagine happening. I slowly lowered myself, resting on my knees, digging through the box all of my items, sifting through all of my clothes, gently placing them beside me. As I looked through my clothing, each piece brought back a distance memory; moments with Cillian.

Everything that happened between us was meant to happen and I'll always feel that way. I haven't seen him since the day we both got caught, I can barely remember the smell of him, it's becoming a distant memory and I feel incredibly guilty for missing it. I remember sitting in Mrs Caldwell's office, hearing that Cillian had been fired and that Miss Elles would be taking over the class for the rest of the year. It was one of the worst feelings ever; it felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest and dissected - all of the things that hurt the most were becoming true. Miss Elles being my history teacher, never seeing Cillian again, Jude, Grace and even Sam hating me.. it all was something that was too much. It all happened too fast.

Sometimes when I'm falling asleep at night I close my eyes and open them slowly, thinking that just maybe I'd wake up and Cillian would be laying beside me, but it never happened. Even odd weekends at home I'd lay wide awake at night, expecting a knock at my door, Cillian standing there, waiting for me. I knew it was unlikely, I knew it would never happen and that all he'd ever be was the teacher who took my virginity and ruined my life, but he was so much more than that.

I remember sitting in his car and he was crying. The last day we spent together after fleeing the school together.. he cried. It was a surreal experience, yet I was so happy that it was real. He poured his heart out to me; he told me that he loved me and he always would. I found out all of the things that Miss Elles was doing. The manipulation, the lying. It only made me hate her even more, especially because she was my history teacher for the rest of the semester. I hated it, I hated every second I spent in that classroom without Cillian. I hated the way she sat in his office, the way she taught, the way she spoke. I hated it all and I just wanted Cillian; I constantly yearned for him and his touch. I need to accept that he'll always be a distant memory, just a fragment of my imagination, even.

There hasn't been a day where I haven't thought about him. Late nights spent studying, I'd sit there, waiting for my phone to ring, expecting him to call me, telling me that he's waiting for me. But it never happened. I would sit in the dining hall, waiting to see him walk in, waiting for him to come and hug me. But it never happened. I'd find myself wandering the streets alone at night, weaving in and out of bars even if I hated the thought of drinking, just praying that I'd somehow bump into Cillian.

But it never happened.

I would tell my therapist these things sometimes, Dr Anderson, but all that she'd do is nod. My mother and father thought that getting a therapist would fix everything - thinking that I had gone through some emotional trauma, when in reality, that's all that they ever put me through. Half of the sessions spent with Dr Anderson consisted of me speaking about my mother and father. I'd only speak of Cillian when he was brought up, never on my own. He wasn't someone that I considered to 'ruin' my life. He always made it better, he always fixed everything when it felt wrong or when it was wrong.