「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(295) Greedy

The lightweight garment draped seamlessly over her legs, emphasizing the alluring contours of her thighs and knees, albeit shrouding the beauty of her calves. Nevertheless, the floral piece was certainly pleasing to the eye, with it's vibrant prints standing out distinctly from its basic white background.

As she pulled on a black striped knit top to complete her styling, Lynn diligently steered herself to me and dutifully adjusted my tie that always seemed crooked without her assistance on a daily basis. Duly straightening the navy accessory sleekly ornamenting my full cobalt apparel, Lynn gazed up at me with expectancy, as if she was waiting for me to say something, but honestly, nothing came to mind that could possibly quench that enormous anticipation.

"What?" I prodded in confusion, adamantly veering away from her mind, and Lynn chuckled in an awkward tone.

"Nothing. I'm hungry. Let's go," she urged, leading as we headed towards the kitchen.

Ever since our return from that last dreadful mission, it had developed into a common habit for us to dine away from the masses—at least during breakfast. Originally when her psychological disorder was first medically confirmed, Lynn strictly confined herself to our room, unable to handle the stress elicited by the bustling environment.

Apart from occasional visitors and mandatory appearances, she mostly opted to withdraw herself from crowded areas and stayed mainly behind the scenes for the school operations. Only after Rachel's birth, which unwittingly coincided with the ample stabilisation of her condition, did Lynn willingly volunteer to resume her teaching duties, promptly filling the gaps evoked by Jean's maternity leave.

Slowly, she grew accustomed to the busy activities again but even then, her inclinations to socialise were erratic. Purely dictated by her temperament of the day, her presence at dinner evolved from sporadic to consistent more recently but our alone time in the mornings still prevailed.

Lynn desired for our private enjoyment, claimed as both soothing and invigorating, to mark a wonderful start to her day and without anomalies, it proceeded. Weirdly, I only noticed when she levitated our plates to the table that her left hand was utterly bare apart from our wedding ring.

Her wrist brace, newly upgraded by Scott, was equipped with preliminary exoskeletal supports that served to grant her some regain of function to her joint and fingers. Although the induced dexterity was undeniably not as comprehensive as what it was prior to her injury, it sufficed to provide her independence to achieve trivial tasks like lifting thin books or loosely gripping a fork.

Despite its attractive advantages, however, its contrastingly unappealing outlook unfortunately precluded its permanent usage. More often than not, Lynn hid the robotic device under long-sleeved clothing but during warmer seasons or when she was dressed to the nines for special events, it would be automatically discarded from her guise and she would gladly accept a gimpy hand on her lap than have the unsightly gear steal all the attention.

"You are impossible, my love," I stated jovially, spotting the avid grin she was constantly flashing at me, evidently hinting for me to feed her.

"Am I not allowed to be?" She repeated in an almost identical manner as before.

"Sure, you are," I heartily answered.

With pleasure, I honoured her request and we cordially savoured our breakfast until its eventual conclusion. Sweetly, Lynn pecked me on the cheek and manoeuvred herself off to her lesson venue but there was something obscurely amiss in her eyes that bothered me even after we parted ways.

Retreating to my office to settle some administrative matters during my free period, I delved into the miscellaneous paperwork piled into a mountain but almost like there was an unknown, and boundless, force tugging back along my focus, I was continually distracted.

Frustratedly tossing the file of legal documents onto my desk, I rubbed my eyes that were stinging from reading the same lines over and over again without appropriate registration in my brain. As they were appeased, I cruised across my study to the windowsill and removed my jacket, hanging it over the back of my chair.

Appreciating the fine greenery, I basked in the luxurious summer sun, but suddenly, my mind was wholly emptied and what ensued was it being blasted by an acute ache. The stabbing sensation visited just once but with colossal intensity that my head was sent twitching and nearly jerked me out of my chair.

Hastily, I latched onto my armrest and clutched onto my skull but even when the stifling dizziness ceased, I still panted heavily as an influx of data swamped back to occupy the transiently vacated space. Hardly catching my breath, I strained to reach Lynn but before I could unravel her current situation, my doors energetically burst open.

"Professor!" Peter bellowed agitatedly and I swivelled around, spying his grey strands falling as if calming down from high speed.

"Are you alright?" Peter questioned anxiously.

"I think so... Why?" I mumbled in a tentative tone and weakly glanced up to Peter who was equally distraught as he fidgeted in the squarish aperture.

"What's wrong, Peter?" I asked uneasily.

"It's Lynn. She collapsed," Peter unveiled.

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I'm terribly sorry for the cliffhanger. More to come next Monday! By the way, can anyone predict which direction I am bringing the story? Hehe