𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐑 » 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐬

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 :

Chris is leaning against the wall, while listening to his two beloved friends speak about the current race. He doesn't look amused. Not at all. If he wasn't interested in the race, why didn't he just follow Sebastian and Hemsworth? Why did he stay? Surely, being with them would be more interesting?

I decide to brush my own thoughts away. I always overanalyse things, which sometimes gets me in trouble. Overthinking is a real bitch.

I let out a little laugh when I see him rolling his eyes at his friends' reactions. He's really not enjoying any of this. I decide to approach him and put him out of his own misery.  I walk over to him and position myself right next to him. I lean my back on the wall behind me and rest my head against the hard concrete. I turn to look at him, but he's already looking at me. He smiles at me and shakes his head. God, that smile.

'Not a fan of cars?' I question him as I maintain eye contact. He shakes his head as a response.

'No, not really. More of a sports guy I'd say.' he says while he's looking around, scanning the environment with his eyes. Eventually, his eyes are back on me.

'Yeah, I can tell, actually.' I say, not really thinking about the words that are coming out of my mouth. I mentally cuss myself but I try to play it cool. He furrows his eyebrows, then smiles.

'What's that supposed to mean?' he questions, knowing fully well what it's supposed to mean. He just wants to get it out of me. He wants to hear the words coming out of my mouth.

Son of a bitch.

'Do you want me to answer your question as your student, or as a woman?' I question him. He looks surprised at my question, while I'm eager to hear his answer.

'What's the difference, exactly?' he answers my question, with one of his own.

'I will have to be more respectful if I answer as your student.' I look at him, wearing a smirk on my lips, looking straight into his eyes. I can tell he wasn't expecting that. He's literally lost for words.

'With a body like that, of course you'd be a sports guy.' I say, looking away from him, escaping his gaze. I look straight ahead, and without wanting to, I start to imagine what he'd look like without all those clothes on. I think about how his chest would go up and down as his breathing would get heavier, and how his muscles would tense when I'd touch him.

Being in a world of my own, thinking about all those things, causes me to unintentionally bite my lip, while my head is leaning against the wall. This obviously doesn't go unnoticed by Chris, as he still has his eyes on me.

With the corner of my eye, I can see him smirking and then looking away from me. He's now staring towards the same direction as I am. I want to look at him, I really do. But, even just looking at him drives me crazy.

'You know, that's not respectful either.' he exclaims, still looking ahead.

'What isn't?' I question him, shaking the thoughts of him away, and turning my full attention on Chris.

'What you were just thinking about. That's not respectful either.' he states, while he's taking a sip of his beer.

'And how do you know what I was thinking about?' I say, with a hint of sarcasm in my voice. My Professor cannot know that I fantasize over him. Not now, not ever.

'I'm experienced enough to know a lot more than you do.' he says while taking another sip of his beer. To think of how much experience he has, in all departments, makes the butterflies in my stomach return. There is obviously a double meaning under that sentence, and I won't let it go unnoticed.