Nineteen-year-old Namora Mursings has fallen in love with her married teacher, Mr. Vincent Williams. Knowing the consequences of her infatuation, she still decides to pursue him.
Vincent takes her for a troubled girl still on an identity quest and w...
Unedited. /// You guys mighttttt love this chapter, you're welcome!
Sorry for the long wait, I know I can be a bit much at times but bear with me😭
As for MTAMM lovers, I'm a bit hesitant for the moment. As most of you know, I don't plan my books before writing them, so now I'm not too sure how to proceed. I'll have to find the time to write it because I haven't touched the next chapter yet. Sorry about that😿
DYING, DREAMING, SCREAMING
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"Namora!"
"I'm just playing with you, I'm sorry," I say, zipping my jacket back up quickly.
He suppresses what he wants to say, clenching his jaws. He's averted his face, looking the other way.
I slip the sweater over me.
"I intended for you to wear it over your wet clothes. Not for you to undress in front of me," he continues.
He's deadly calm. Too deadly calm.
I expected him to scream at me. But he's not doing that.
...so what calamity is awaiting me?
"-And do you think this is the time to play with me?" He says, tone accusing.
I open my mouth, but he beats me to it.
"Who on earth can raise such an ill-mannered girl?"
That shuts me up, and I sink back in my seat, wanting the ground to swallow me whole. I only unzipped my clothes halfway, I don't understand why he's being so over dramatic.
Granted, it took him by surprise, but still. He's too uptight for his own good.
But after a few seconds, the guilt comes to chip away at me when I begin to weigh it out. It is inappropriate. I did cross the line.
What on earth possessed me? I was taking this 'surprise him' challenge way too far.
"There's so many things I would like to say right now," he utters through clenched teeth, as if echoing my thoughts, "but it will have to wait till next time. I need to get you home first, the weather outside is-"
"Mr. Williams," I squeak out.
"If you say one more word, Namora," he mutters darkly.
That shuts me up.
"Jesus, you can't just do that in front of me," he repeats, shaking his head, almost as if he's talking to himself. His free hand goes up to palm his chin, deep in thoughts. It's as if I'm not right there next to him; he's already lost in his own world.
Shít, what the hell did I do?
I got too carried away. I knew I wouldn't be able to control myself at one point and fúck things up. I guess I didn't expect it to be so soon.
