Be My Teacher || K.SJ

Special Chapter: Is this love?

Willow: Hey! I am!

Sexy asshole: I can read you like a book. You're transparent and easy to predict. But I like that.

Willow: :(

Sexy asshole: Take it as a compliment. I just haven't heard you use that word before, so it caught me off guard is all.

Willow: I rarely use it. Only when I'm really angry or people who I truly believe deserve it. And my aunt is definitely one of those people. 

Sexy asshole: I agree. Why is she kicking you out?

Willow: Because I called her out for being racist.

Sexy asshole: You're right. She is a cunt.

Willow: Lmao. Glad you agree. ♥

Willow: I should go to sleep, It's past 11pm and I need to be up early...

Sexy asshole: Oh, of course. Good night.

Sexy asshole: ♥

Willow: :) Good night ♥♥♥

**

I lock my phone and place it on the desk in my office. I sigh and lean back in my chair, already feeling the stress and anger melted away.

She makes me feel better. She's like my remedy, a comfort which I've grown accustomed to. 

I crave her touch, her voice, her mind, her thoughts... Her everything.

What does this mean?

 Is this love? 

I'm confused.

Am I even capable of love? I always said that it was myth. That it doesn't exist, it's only in peoples heads. 

I often think about her. And when I do, I catch myself smiling automatically. I feel a warmth, a happy glow inside of me when she's here, and even when she's not. 

Today was... I'd say it's the equivalent of hell. Hwasa is on a war path, a mission to get me right where she wants me and I have no idea how to stop it. When I feel stressed, the first thing I think about is Willow, and the stress seems to dissipate almost immediately.

She's a healthy distraction, but it's definitely more than just that.

What is it I'm feeling?

Maybe I should google it? It's a little juvenile but google has all the answers, so I've been told.

I lean forward and unlock my computer, pulling google up. I hover my fingers over the keyboard, feeling stupid for even thinking of googling this.

I sigh and type out in the search bar:

How to know if you're in love?

Millions of searches come up, but I pick the first one. It directs me to a women's magazine site, the article titled: 5 tell-tale signs that you're in love.

I feel stupid.

My masculinity is being compromised and threatened right now. I feel like a teenage girl.

I groan and proceed to scroll, and the first point already has me second guessing my original thoughts about love.

1. You always think about them.

I think about her everyday. All day, every day. Before I go to sleep and after I wake up, she's in my brain. 

2. You always stare at them.

I've caught myself staring at her on a few occasions. When she's studying in my office, or in class, my eyes are fixated on her and nothing else, until I catch myself and realise I'm staring. 

3. You want them to be happy.

Of course I want her to be happy. Seeing her laugh and smile is a sight for sore eyes. Her smile is intoxicating, beautiful and addictive. Her laugh is sweet and melodic, and I want to hear it all the time. 

...As well as her moans. 

4. You're trying new things.

I haven't tried many new things, but I definitely have tried something new for, and with her. She wanted to make love, instead of fuck. I'd never done that before. It was a new experience, one I genuinely enjoyed with her. 

Granted, I still prefer my way of doing things, but I'd be happy to do it again if she wants to take it slow in the future. 

5. You're OK with the gross stuff.

Multiple times I've walked down the hall upstairs and seen her peeing with the bathroom door open. At first it shocked me, but now I don't even bat an eye. She'll burp loudly sometimes after we eat dinner, and I don't acknowledge it. She'll sometimes subtly pick her nose when we're watching TV, and I'm not phased at all. 

I reach the end of the page, and it tells me that if I experience all five of those, that means "you've got it bad and you're fully whipped. You're in love." 

I sit at my desk, staring off into space as I contemplate it. 

Am I going to 100% put my trust into a teenage girls magazine column? Just because they tell me I'm in love, that doesn't mean I am. 

But I'm conflicted.  

I grab my phone and unlock it, going back to our text conversation.

Jin: Are you still awake?

I tap my fingers on the desk and stare at my phone, waiting for her to read and reply. After about a minute, my heart skips a beat when I see she's read it.

Baby girl: Yeah. Everything alright?

Jin: Yes. I have a question.

Baby girl: Okay, shoot.

Jin: Shoot?

Baby girl: It means go ahead... Lol.

Jin: Ah. I apologize if this seems a little out of the blue...

Jin: Your ex, did you love him?

She reads it immediately, but she doesn't type. I stare at the screen for a solid two minutes, before I see she begins typing. My heart is beating fast, I'm nervous. Why am I nervous?

Baby girl: No. I thought I did at the time, but I realized after that it wasn't love. 

Baby girl: Why?

Jin: I was just curious. 

Baby girl: Are you jealous? Lol

Jin: No.

Jin: I have to go.

Baby girl: ... Alright then.

I quickly lock my phone and click off the website on the computer, resting my elbows on the surface and dropping my head in my hands. I sigh deeply and think for a moment, before lifting my head back up.

I think I'm in love.

Fuck.