Cherry Baby (INCOMPLETE)

Chapter 7- Sweetheart.

Hey, I'm gonna try and do both of these books, Im wrapping up my other book and planning on completing this one sometime before school starts.

Hopefully!!!.....

I felt better after watching some Disney movies with Winona, where we spent most of the time eating snacks and talking through the movies. It really helped, though. I'm so grateful to have her as my friend AND my roommate! Talk about luck!

It's already 8pm by the time we decided to call it a night and get an early night's sleep. Okay, well, I decided. Hey, crying makes you really tired, and my eyes are already puffy, and just knowing my allergies and the fact it's spring, I already know I'm gonna have a hard time getting them to de-puff tomorrow for classes.

Speaking of classes, I can't help but think to myself what Mr.Dawson is up to right now.

As much as I fight trying to think about him, it's a losing battle. There's just something about him that brings out the little in me but still makes me feel safe.

Maybe he's a daddy dom?

No, no, don't be silly. He's just a regular professor who feels bad for me. That's all that's going on.

Right?

The punching bag swings from the force of my punch. The inner battle in my head seems to be beating me, no matter how hard I try to fight it. It's obvious she's a little, and doesn't have a daddy dom in her life. If she did, he's a pathetic one.

This girl barley eats, struggles to take care of herself, and it a total brat deep down. I can already tell shell be a handful for the dominant she will have.

My punches get harder, the bag flying back harshly. I catch it before it slaps me in the face, attempting to knock me over. Just the thought of some other guy being her dominant has my blood boiling. She doesn't deserve just some random daddy. She deserves someone who will treat her like a princess, handle her with care, and cherish her like a treasure.

My head falls with a sigh, resting my forehead against the punching bag. The lesson plan for tomorrow is already planned. I have the students working in groups for a project that will be due in a week. Deciding to head for bed, I take the stairs to the bathroom connected to my room.

A cold shower is just what I need to wash her away from my system. I can't keep thinking of her as mine. My little.

There's nothing going on between us. There's no way she sees me as anything other than a professor.

Cause that's all I am to her. And it has to stay that way.

Right?

Either way I have asked Cheryl to come in a little early before class starts tomorrow. I wanted to talk to her about the project. From what I know about her so far, she doesn't do well in groups and public speaking. If there's something I can do to help make her feel more comfortable, there's no doubt I would do it.

Whatever it may be.

Time skip
The next day.
9:45 a.m.

Class starts in fifteen minutes. Cheryl should be here any minute from now. I'm pulled from my thoughts when a knock fills my ears, the walls echoing it inside the room. "Come in." My voice is rough when I talk.

She walks in, her small form slides through the door opening. Her head lowered, eyes cast down to the floor, staring at her shoe covered feet. With small steps, she makes her way over to where I'm standing. Obviously in her own world, unaware that I was actually standing in front of my desk instead of being seated behind it.

She walks straight into me, her body brushing against mine slightly, just enough to feel the warmth of her body. Cheryl jumps back with a squeak. Practically whipping her head up, her wide eyes meet my dark ones. "I- I'm so sorry sir, I wasn't looking." Her voice comes out shaky, her face clearly showcasing her nervousness.

I hold back a groan but my breath hitches hearing her call me sir, not expecting her to call me that. But it sounds so good coming from her. "Don't call me sir, Cheryl. Please." I almost sound pathetic, voice gruff and deep.

I tighten my hands and feel as my mouth twitches, fighting against what I really want to say.

I can see her body shiver from here. Not from fear, but from something else. Something that shouldn't be happening. It's almost as if she shivered from pleasure or desire? I shake my head. No, that can't be right, I think to myself.

"A-alright sorry, um professor?" She says, her voice filled with questioning. Obviously testing out the term.

I clear my throat, gaining her attention back. "I wanted to speak to you before class started." I move around the desk, taking a seat on the chair. "We are going to start a new project in groups. Is there anything I can do that would make you more comfortable during this time?"

She seems surprised by my question. As if she would've never expected to hear me say this.

"I- well, um, can I be in the same group with my friend Winona?" Cheryl says, and I can see her fighting off a smile while thinking of her friend. I nod, waiting a moment to let her think again before I speak.

"Oh! And if the numbers aren't equal, could our group be smaller or like one of the smaller ones? Sorry-" She shakes her head, "only if that's not too much to ask, of course." I can see the way she shrinks her body, attempting to make herself look smaller.

"Yes, of course, sweetheart." My breath hitches, the term of endearment just slipping out so naturally before I had any chance to stop it. Whereas I know it's unprofessional, the way her cheeks redden, and she starts squirming, makes it hard to convince myself I should never let it happen again.

I clear my throat. "Yes, I can make that happen. Um, the other students should be arriving soon, so go take a seat, please." Checking the watch attached to my wrist for the time.

I release a breath, seeing her move away from me and taking a seat in the front row, her usual spot. Groaning, I lean back in my chair, close my eyes tight. Fuck, this is gonna be a long day. Hell, it's gonna be a long year, I think to myself.