Instinctive Feelings.

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Instinctive Feelings.

It was early June; the fourth, to be precise. The sunrays were working hard against Emily and Mr. Radcliffe; the sweat dribbling in blotches down her spine, and down his creased forehead. Why had Mr. Radcliffe giving Emily her detention, today, of all days? Emily didn't know. She stared at the clock and noticed the teacher was staring too. They met each other's gaze for a few seconds -- her into his sapphire ones and he into her deep brown. Then, with a sudden feeling of anxiousness, Mr. Radcliffe slowly unbuttoned the top of shirt. He was going to faint, and he knew it. He had to do something to prevent it from happening.

"Miss Clark, would you mind if I removed my tie?" he asked Emily. She stared at him for a few seconds, her mouth faltered open but evidently closed shut. And then, with one of her swift nods, he quickly removed his gold tie from his black shirt.

The sun shifted again, this time directly behind them, and as if they were both on fire, it scorched through Emily's back and the teacher's eyes. She stared at him for a moment, longing to ask if she too, could take off an item of her clothing, but she restrained herself and carried on writing false notes into her jotter.

When she took quick glances at her teacher - whom was cupping his hands around his face, giving the impression of about to faint - she stared thoughtfully at him. He was so perfect! His perfect honey coloured hair, his perfect olive skin, his perfect toned body, perfect masculine broadness, but most importantly his perfect sapphire eyes - it was all complete perfection! For those few seconds she let her naughty little head run on the treadmill and she pictured him taking off the remainder of his clothes as well as his tie.

"Sir, may I please open a window?" requested Emily cautiously.

"Of course you can -- by all means!" replied Mr. Radcliffe, a little too hurriedly. He watched Emily rise from her chair, and with intensive staring, he noticed that a few buttons were unbuttoned from beneath her black cardigan. He blinked, trying to contain his staring. But it was impossible not to stare at her. He watched her casually walk towards the clean classroom windows, and barely on her tip toes, she reached up and gradually opened the window. Her frail body turned around, with a gentle smile on her face. The overpowering sun was complimenting her; letting her creamy, pale skin glow and glisten. She looked so beau - No! Mr. Radcliffe frowned. No! He repeated in his head again, and he attempted to banish the thoughts from entering his mind but they immediately returned. He cupped his hands furiously again, while Emily returned to her jotter, uncertain as to why her teacher was so furious.

"Are you alright, sir?" she asked, staring at him kindly. The teacher looked up, and gazed at her for a few moments - obviously mesmerised by her sudden beauty - before excusing her.

"You may go now, Emily. Just don't be late next time, agreed?" He raised one of his eyebrows at her.

"Thanks, sir! And I won't. See you later!" And with that, she gathered up her jotters, shoved them in her bag and disappeared woodenly out of the classroom.

When she was safely out of view from her teacher, she braced herself against his closed pallid door. What. The hell. Was all that about? Why all of a sudden were those strange feelings from weeks ago.... returning? And for her TEACHER! Oh, God! What about Paul? Paul who was her dearest boyfriend.

Emily inhaled and exhaled quietly, calming herself down, assuring herself that it was because of the sun's heat. The sun: it was making her delusional.

Little did Emily know that Mr. Radcliffe, on the other side of the door, was thinking the exact same as her... He criticised himself for even giving her a detention when she was only five minutes late! Why was this happening to him? Why was he getting these feelings for a student whose barely turned 16...?

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