Valentina
I'm late. I'm late. I'm late. I'm late. I'm late.
Those two words spin through my mind over and over again as I rush through the building, looking for room 207.
After Connor left, Millie wanted to remind me that I should "dump his ass" and she wanted to catch me up on Love Island.
So here I am, running through the Creative Writing building, looking like a psycho.
I finally reach room 207 and slow down. Before entering, I take two deep breaths. Mentally preparing myself to explain why I'm late to my professor and shrink back into the crowd.
I was helping an old lady cross the road.
That is the reasoning I've chosen to run with. I'm sure my professor doesn't want to hear about my relationship drama or who's dating who on season six of a reality TV show.
I walk into the room and feel instant relief. The professor isn't here yet. A little bit weird but I'm not complaining.
I walk over to take a seat but stop in my tracks when I catch sight of the man walking down the aisle of seated students.
I can't think of any other words to describe this man other than breathtaking. I think at some point my mouth opened and my heart stopped.
Okay, listen: I know I have a boyfriend and this probably makes me a terrible human being. But wow. Anyone would be crazy to not take a moment and appreciate this beautiful man.
His white button up shirt tightens around his biceps and tucks perfectly into his brown slacks.
A little overdressed for a student... but then again I'm not really complaining.
He comes to a stop in front of me with his brows drawn together. I think he said something. I shake my head and refocus on him.
"Sorry, did you say something?" I ask him, running my fingers up to my face to make sure there isn't drool dripping down the side of my chin. Better safe than sorry.
"I did. I said excuse me." His words don't make sense to my confused little brain. So, I do what any natural, normal, perfectly sane human would do when talked to by a Greek god: I ramble.
"Oh, okay. I'm Valentina by the way. I was running really late. But only because I was helping this old lady cross the road. So it's definitely for that reason and not another one. You know, I'm just really glad the professor isn't here yet. I did not want to explain to an old, probably arrogant, definitely prideful man why I was running late. And I'm rambling, so I'm just going to shut up now." Some students around me snicker, but I assume it's because of my rambling.
The man standing before me has his eyebrows raised, a shocked look on his face. I definitely scared him.
A smile slowly starts to play on his face as he extends his hand.
"Mark." I take his hand and give him a small smile. Goosebumps rise up my arm when I feel his firm, soft hand.
"I'm gonna, uhm, go sit down." I quickly make my way around him to the second row of seats and take the first empty one I reach.
The skin on my hand still tingles where he held it.
To my complete and utter horror, "Mark" walks to the front of the class and leans back against the professor's desk. A smug smile slowly filling his features.
Oh no, fuck no. Shit, fuck, dammit, mierda.
The blood completely drains from my face as I register his next words.
"Hello class. I am Professor Holloway. You may call me Dr. Holloway or Professor Holloway, whichever you'd like."
My heart stops beating, but not in a good way this time. I want the floor to swallow me whole.
"Contrary to some students belief," His eyes meet mine, a smirk on his lips. "I am not old, I might be a little prideful, and I'll leave you all to determine if I meet your standards on arrogant."
The students around me laugh alongside Mark- no- Professor Holloway.
Where's the floor when you need it? Definitely not swallowing me whole. Dammit.
I knew he was too well-dressed to be a student.
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The second hand embarrassment is so real.
This chapter wasn't as long as the last one, and it's only got Val's POV but I kinda love it. Let me know what you think in the comments! >>
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Thanks for reading,
Mia x
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The Professor
RomanceDr. Mark Holloway is a young college professor who has a PhD in poetry. He isn't looking for love or complications after his last two failed relationships. Reserved and cold, hate is the answer. All he expects from his third year at the University...
