Why am I so nervous? I blow out a frustrated breath through my lips.
I hesitantly raise my fist.
Knock, knock, knock.
I pull back and wait, fidgeting with my fingers behind my back. I'm fine, it's gonna be perfectly fine...
The door clicks and swings open to reveal an unfamiliar, female teacher. I have to look down at her. And here I thought I was short. She has a short strawberry blond bob and striking green eyes. Her lips are painted with a purplish nude hue and she wears a white blouse tucked in her brown pencil skirt, showcasing her figure while still coming off as professional.
Goddamn.
She raises a thin brow at the both of us. "Hello, what brings you here?" She voices with just a hint of a French accent.
My nerves start sparking wildly. Have I ever told you I get really fucking nervous around attractive people?
I subtly side-eye the man beside me. He speaks. "Hey, can we come in for a moment?"
She furrows her brows curiously and moves out of the way, offering for us to come in. Just as I'm about to take a step, Mr. Dickhead cut me off and heads in first, nudging my shoulder in the process. I don't say anything. Instead, I glower at him, so intensely that laser beams might as well shoot out and burn a hole right through the back of his head. His movements don't reveal anything, but anyone in his place would feel my absolutely penetrating gaze.
A faint little mark behind his ear catches my eye before it is covered by his hair again.
Oh? I hadn't noticed he had a birthmark there.
"What brings you here?" She questions as he pulls out a chair out just for him and sits his fat ass on it.
Not that I like to stare at his ass. Don't get it twisted.
"Remember that favor you owe me?" He speaks as I pull out a chair for myself. She tilts her head and looks at him with scrutinizing eyes.
Silence.
I subtly give the imaginary camera across the room a quick wide-eyed look, feeling even more out of place all of a sudden.
They bore their eyes into one another, sizing each other up. My feet shuffles a bit, itching to make a straight line for the door. God, what have I gotten myself into again?
I take notice of how... alike they look, especially their strong jawline and angular face shape, but I quickly shake out the thought. If that was the case, I'd be looking at someone with severe trauma, phycological and/or anger issues. And the woman before me doesn't look like she belongs in a mental asylum.
I squint.
Or does she?
"What do you want, Alexandre?" Her tone hardens.
Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!
Mr. Dubois gives it a few seconds before he twists his head to look at me, about to speak when he cuts himself off. He scrunches his brows slightly, greens eyes peering me up and down.
Looks like he might've caught me in the act of almost sprinting the hell out of here, with my chair scooted far and my body shifted away from whatever shit was about to go down.
I alternate my eyes between the two of them; one just blinks at me, while the other gives me a knowing look. Mr. Dubois sighs almost inaudibly, shaking his head. Then, he leans forward form his seat and reaches one strong arm out towards me, making me slightly flinch when he clasps his fingers around one of the chair legs and hauls me closer.
His bicep ripples through the fabric, and I have to fight to avert my gaze.
Woah there.
He pulls my chair where he deems fit, which is close to the table where they're sitting at, but still quite spacious from him. Intuitively, I know he purposely did that. Mr. Dubois leaves his grasp from my chair, the tips of his fingers brushing my calves, and that mere touch sends sparks up my legs. Involuntarily, I jerk my leg away from his touch, breath hitching.
It goes unnoticed by the woman sitting in front of us, but my French teacher however, catches it. He looks up at me for what felt like hours.
I let out a small sigh of relief when he keeps his mouth shut and places his gaze back on the woman, realizing I wasn't breathing properly the whole time.
I really need to get laid.
Laid? Hilarious, virgin.
I hear Mr. Dubois speak up again, but in French, gesturing to me. After a few moments, the woman in front of us crosses her arms and glares at him. She growls something back, but he interrupts her.
As they go on, I find myself getting more and more anxious as they start raising their voices little by little, standing up. I contemplate on getting my phone out, but I get a feeling the man beside me wouldn't appreciate that. So, I lean back in my seat and pick at my nails in my lap.
Shit, they're ruined and ugly as fuck.
They suddenly go quiet. I tilt my head back up.
They both stare at me with their arms crossed. Both of them have a look of frustration on their faces, although I can tell the woman's anger is more directed towards Mr. Dubois.
I shift in my seat uncomfortably, not really used to this much attention. Did I do something?
"Je ne vais pas le faire." The female teacher huffs out, returning her gaze to him. I feel a surge of pride when I understood what she said. "I will not do it."
"Oui tu le feras, et c'est définitif, Camilla." Mr. Dubois deadpans, keeping his eyes on me. "Yes you will, and that is final, Camilla."
Camilla?
"Camilla Cabello?"
She whips her head towards me again. I squeak out a 'sorry' and give a sheepish smile.
I see Mr. Dubois rolling his eyes, "Elle fait ça parfois." "She does that sometimes."
But to my surprise, her lips faintly twitch in amusement. She takes a moment to consider.
"I agree, then we're equal?"
"That's what I've been saying for the past 7 minutes."
"Only for this semester."
Mr. Dubois raises his brow. "No. The whole year."
"Then fuck off." She untucks one arm and waves him off, fed up.
What's going on?
Mr. Dubois twists his lips, deep in thought. It's obvious he isn't quite pleased with that, but he offers his hand anyway. "Fine. Deal."
She shakes it firmly, looking at him nonchalantly. "We will talk shit about you." They release their grasps.
"Make sure it's in French."
On second thought, they may actually be siblings.
Camilla takes her seat and Mr. Dubois does the same. She powers up her computer, typing something I can't really see.
"Starting when?"
"Tomorrow." He answers, reciprocating her tone.
After a few minutes in awkward silence, I debate on whether I should speak up and ask what's going on.
"So..." I trail off, noticing Mr. Dubois raking his hair through his fingers from the corner of my vision.
"Either of you mind explaining what's going on?"
Silence.
I'm about to say something again when Mr. Dubois cuts me off.
"Yes."
I look at him, puzzled. "Yes as in "yes, I can explain" or "yes, I do mi—""
"Shut up." I close my mouth immediately and slouch in my seat.
"Jeez, what's got your panties in a twist?" I murmur under my breath, playing with the loose string on my skirt. The shuffling to my right tells me he probably turned to glare at me. Of course, the little gray string seems much more interesting at that moment.
Camilla chuckles breathily. "I think I'm gonna like this one."
"Tutor her for the whole year then."
"Sure, when your head is big enough for your ego." She deadpans.
Which one?
Woah there.
"Oh, I never got your name." She quirks, pulling me out from my train of thought. Her green eyes jumps back and forth between the keyboard and the screen.
"Aliza."
"Aliza." She repeats, testing it on her tongue. "I like it."
All I do is force a smile at her in response. I never did well with flattery. Meanwhile Mr. Dubois slightly scoffs from his seat, and it is my turn to glower at him.
After a few moments, she hits the 'Enter' button loudly, joining her hands together.
"Okay. Just sent an email to the principal." She elaborates. "In every club period from now on, Aliza, come to my class and we'll work on your French."
I can't help but let out a cringe when I hear it. That's two periods of more French every week! What, do they want me to turn into a baguette or something?
Upon seeing my expression, she gives me a sympathetic look. "Just for this semester, all right?" Camilla leans back and raises her palms up. "It wasn't my idea."
Mr. Dubois slightly smirks from my side. I grind my teeth against each other, feeling a grudge against him growing inside my chest.
You better not complain when karma comes and bites you in the ass, Monsieur.
_______________
Yes, I know. I've been inactive.
Can't promise you I'll be uploading frequently anytime soon though. Exams are a pain.
Although I may be a hard dom, I can't deny my darlings for long, can I? Not when you guys have been begging so prettily in my comments and dms.
I love you ❤️