Blinded by Limerence

25 | Mixed Signals

Collin didn't fail to take notice of the change in name. However, as soon as I had said the suggestive words, Collin laughed and shook his head, effectively ruining the mood. "Morgan, this is inap—"

That was when I decided to make my move. I pulled the collar of his blazer towards me and connected our lips in a sweet but chaste kiss.

When I pulled away, I saw that his face was bright pink, and it was evident to me and probably the entire coffee shop that his mind couldn't process what just happened... but it was also clear that he wasn't about to back down. With a grin that darkened his usually bright eyes, he suddenly placed his hand at the back of my head and attached my lips to his again.

Collin's mouth came down hard on mine. One of his hands cupped my chin while the other crept round my waist, turning me towards him. He nipped at my bottom lip with his teeth before sliding his tongue into my mouth. It felt so right; I didn't want it to end.

"Excuse me, sir?" a waitress suddenly interrupted, drawing our session to an abrupt end, much to my dismay. "Your order's ready."

He coughed, flustered, as he looked away to hide his blushing face. "Y-yes, thank you."

As we walked away from the counter with our food, Collin smirked and whispered into my ear, "You know... I'm not so hungry anymore now that I've finally gotten a taste of you."

||

The sun had set, and dusk settled over Brooklyn. Collin and I were exploring this serene part of the city, lost in its silent but warm and welcoming environment.

Holding onto the doggy bag with the untouched food from the coffee shop, Collin whiffed the cool air and smiled fondly. "I love Brooklyn at night," he said.

I giggled. "What's so special about Brooklyn?"

"Well, for one," he began, and, curiously enough, a smirk began to make its way to his face. He wrapped his arms around my waist in a gentle matter, then, in contrast to his tender actions, he suddenly backed me against a bricked wall and pressed his lips onto mine. "I get to do this," he breathed out against my lips, sending shivers down my spine.

As our lips moved together in perfect sync, my breath hitched, and I smiled into the kiss; I could smell the familiar vanilla scent of his blazer as my back was pressed further onto the wall.

I'm living the dream, I thought to myself as I continued to make out with my sexy physics teacher right there on the sidewalk of Brooklyn.

|||

"This is me," I told Collin, pointing to the house down the street a few blocks away.

He chuckled. "Hiding from the parents, are we?"

Figuring he understood the risk of our being seen together at this time of night, I nodded and laughed. "Of course," I replied. "What would you say if you knew your daughter was out on a date with her teacher?"

Collin's gentle blue eyes met mine, and he averted his gaze to the pebbles on the ground. "So this was a date," he said softly.

At his words, I internally panicked. I stammered, "Uh, n-no, that would be inappropriate—"

His soft, melodic laugh cut me off, and I cocked my head to the side curiously. "What's so funny?" I asked.

"Please, Morgan," he grinned mischievously. "At this point, we're way past inappropriate."

My cheeks flared up, the memory of his lips on mine still fresh. I looked away, trying my best to ignore my libido.

Still nervous, I felt the knot in my stomach twist painfully, but I was anxious to get it out. "Collin," I ventured, "what are we?"

Casually, he inserted his hands into his pockets and shivered as a gust of night wind blew over the two of us on the empty intersection. "Well," he said, looking up at the starless night sky, "for starters, I'm your teacher, and you're my student."

"And?"

"And... That's it." 

Suddenly, the sinking feeling was back, and I found myself wanting to cry.

"What... What does that mean?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"It means that... I'll see you on Monday," said Collin with a straight face. "Goodnight, Morgan."

With that final greeting, Collin began to walk away in the opposite direction.

Desperate, I called out, "Collin—"

"It's Mr. Donavan to you," he said sternly without looking back.

He was driving me crazy. One moment he was kissing me like there's no tomorrow, and the next he's telling me to call him Mr. Donavan, as if we'd never left the confines of the classroom. He's sending me mixed signals, alright, and I don't know what to make of them.

His retreating silhouette began to fade away as he disappeared from my line of sight. Soon, he's gone, and I'm left standing on the pavement, picking up the pieces of my broken heart, wondering where it all went wrong.