my hot proffesor

Eye Contact

Mabel felt nervous walking into class two, more nervous than she was for her first class. The two days in between Art History were filled with trying to keep up with a busy schedule, as well as trying to study her notes to the best of her ability. Mabel was nervous about the class, especially because of her awkward encounter with Mr. Park. Mabel didn't want to admit it in words, but she had grown an obsession with the thought of him. She had continually replayed their encounter in her head over and over again. His beautiful eyebrows, his not so hidden scanning of her body, his veiny hands pushing up his glasses... her body warmed at the thought. Over and over again, the image played. And over again, Mabel felt tingles.
She didn't want to be so infatuated with her professor, especially at her young age, and her early state of life. But if this wasn't a crush, what could anyone say was? Mabel knew nothing would come of it, and she knew it was stupid to obsess. But Mabel was the type of girl to idolize those she thought of so highly. Mr. Park, well, he was beginning to become that idol to Mabel.
Class began that day with another dramatic entrance from Mr. Park. Noah and Mabel had talked for a few minutes before class had begun, talking about the material they had taken down in the last class, and how it was so intricate.
"It was hard for me to read his handwriting, being so far away and such." Noah said.
Mabel could relate to that and grinned, flashing a pretty dimple Noah's way.
"I thought it was hard to read too! I'm happy it wasn't just me. He writes so fast, and that cursive is pretty, but it's not something I'm used to so much."
Noah laughed a bit. "I actually had to go to a 'prestigious' type of school growing up. At that school, they made us write in cursive sometimes! I didn't know it would come in any sort of use, I'm happy it is in this sense."
Mabel thought it was cool that Noah went to a private school. He probably wore a cool uniform, and she could only imagine the beautiful campus the school had. She wanted to ask him so many questions... that is until Mr. Park charged in.
Seeing him for the first time since the incident triggered a burst of fear in Mabel. Fear of looking stupid to him, or acting awkward. Fear of answering a question wrongly or making a mistake. Those fears were there, but Mabel was at least happy to be able to look at Mr. Park. Boy, was he a sight to behold. To Mabel, he was practically glowing.
Mr. Park didn't even send out a good morning, or a little hello. The first thing he said was:
"I hope you students have made use of the time away from this class to study. To test that ability, I'm going to challenge you all to a pop quiz."
Mabel's fear shot up. A pop quiz? Which crazy teacher gives a pop quiz on the second day of class?
"I'm going to challenge you all to write a paragraph detailing as much as possible from the notes you took from last class. The more detail you include, the better your grade will be." He then relayed more instructions for the students. Mabel was scared for her grade and her image. What if she failed the whole thing? Wouldn't he think of her as a failure because of it? Mabel dreaded the thought of that, and became determined not to disappoint. She took out a pen and paper, and began to write on cue. The words flowed fairly simply for her. She had written a large amount even in the first five minutes. But suddenly, just as fast as she had been writing, she stopped. Her head hit a road block, and her mind stopped producing information. Frustrated, Mabel looked up from her writing. She looked across the room to see a prowling Mr. Park, scanning the crowd to catch any possible cheaters.
Mr. Park scanned the crowd, but suddenly, Mabel made direct eye contact with him. Her heart pounded in her chest, faster than ever. Her blood flushed her cheeks a bright red, her saliva sat in her mouth, too afraid to be swallowed down for fear of who knows what. Being locked in his gaze was like a moment of euphoria, a moment of pure happiness, close to drunkenness. The moment was so separate from the present circumstances. Mabel had forgotten about the pop quiz completely, all that mattered was her and Mr. Park. Mr. Park's gaze was dark, and Mabel could sense an emotion very different from the stoic and mean man that came on display in the classroom. It was a sense of... longing. The darkness reflected back something so different from what Mabel was used to.
Then, Mr. Park looked away, sighed, and said one word: "Time."

After class, a sad Mabel tried to leave the class quickly again. But Mr. Park stopped her with a quick: "Please wait Ms. Mabel, I need to talk to you."
Mabel worried again in that moment.
'I may as well just experience a lifetime of anxiety in one day. It's fine. No problems at all :)' Mabel thought.
After everyone left, Mr. Park simply looked at Mabel, raked his hands through his hair, and beckoned with his hand for her to come down. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes looked distressed.
Mabel walked down the steps to the desk Mr. Park sat at.
He also sat in a swivel chair. Turning the chair around, he faced Mabel with his hands on both arm rests of the chair. Collecting his long fingers into one bundle, he finally spoke to Mabel.
"Mabel, I've been teaching at this college for ten years. I graduated college with a masters in this field, and landed this job at the age of 23. Do you know how old that makes me?"
Mabel gulped.
"That would make you 33 sir."
He snapped his fingers, in an oh so extra manner.
"Exactly. So how do you think it sounds when I say that I can't stop thinking about you- a what, 18? 19 year old girl?"
Mabel's heart was beating terribly fast. She felt like a baby rabbit, just after almost being eaten by an animal of some sort.
"Im not sure sir." Mabel peeped out.
She was so confused from the whole situation. Mr. Park had been, thinking about her?
And the man didn't seem comfortable with it. The distress on his clear face displayed that very well.
"It doesn't sound good to me. And it's not like it isn't a distraction to have you in my class. It's not your fault, it's entirely mine. But the frustration I feel can hopefully be felt by you as well."
Mabel looked at him, eyes wide, and nodded.
Then her confidence, something Mabel didn't know she had, kicked in all at once. She closed the small distance between the two, and went very close to Mr. Park.
She was so close, she could smell his musty cologne, she could see his large hands. She wanted to touch them. The tension was strong in that moment. Mabel's legs were touching Mr. Park's in that close space, separating her and him from the world. Her small hands reached down and grabbed his long ones. Her muscles worked to allow for the planting of a soft kiss on Mr. Park's hand, bending her head allowing her hair to brush against his face. Mr. Park was motionless. But Mabel just looked at him, smiled, flashed her dimple and said:
"There's no reason to be worried Mr. Park, because I think I'm in love with you."