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Out of Line

"That's really good." Emilio was smiling. It was such an adorable smile.

Especially the way he looked so straight at her. Just her. Even though there were other people in the room ---- His friend and the teacher they shared.

"Thanks." Was all she could say as she smiled so brightly back at him. Such an adorable smile. It was real, she could feel it. He was always so warm towards her. This crush she had towards Emilio was unlike any crush she'd ever had in her life, towards an actual person.

Seeing him was happiness, the absence of him was misery

It was like he brought the sunshine with him and took it away when he wasn't there. The year became a subconscious effort to get his attention. To see if she could ever be worthy of someone's interest. So far she had no clue but the way he looked at her right now she could almost believe it was real - this connection.

Could he feel it?

She so desperately wanted to believe it.

Fahmeen looked forward to seeing Emilio in her Religious Studies class. He'd come for extra help, as he was desperate to get into his chosen university the next year. She'd sit up straighter and she couldn't deny that he'd always look at her when they were in the same room. When it was just a few people. Or just the two of them.

Now Emilio was busy in conversation with Ms. Wilson and she returned to her work. Although it was in vain because his presence would distract her.

The butterflies fluttered in her stomach and would only rest in his wake.

...

"It's English now, right?" Her friend reminded her and so Fahmeen was on her way to Professor Rolf's lesson. She hadn't seen him since last week. That Friday afternoon. That conversation which confused her and only made her more concerning about her feelings to him. She did feel something for him. But it was nothing like what she felt for Emilio. With her school crush it felt innocent, sweet even.

With Rolf, this was beginning to creep inside her mind during the most sober and mundane events.

In the shower... his eyes and the colour of his ties. Walking home... the sound of his voice like she still was in his classroom, her ears tuned into the recent past of his voice.

Before going to sleep... their bodies together against his door.

And now she was approaching the blue door. Through the thin strip of glass she could see him standing by the board. Waiting for his students.

The room was alive with Shakespeare and his voice which resonated through the walls and floor. It was like its vibrations would gently prod her whilst she worked. Like the way she'd catch him looking at her as she looked up from her book. He wasn't shy being caught. The green of his eyes seem to embezzle with confidence towards her. It reminded her of the night at the theatre. The cool, collected way Rolf watched her from across the floor. The only difference now was that she didn't feel so scared about this 'thing' between them. There was no use denying it.

Indeed something was there, and like moths to a flame they wanted to be in each other's presence. But now, the way the heat of his gaze was upon her, it felt all too real. This was real. Not just one night, one stranger, one who'd get away. Fahmeen will see him for an entire year.

"Professor? Will we get to watch this in theatre?" Rolf looked towards Joey, his black framed glasses low on the bridge of his nose. He sat the play on his desk and replied,

"Like a trip?"

"Yeah."

"Would you like to go on a trip?" Rolf looked around the room and found his students nodding eagerly. Wide eyes and wide smiles for their school was stingy towards arranging trips for its students. Ever since it had turned into an academy.

"Alright! I'll see what I can do." The Professor seemed excited himself. The theatre was becoming his favourite place.

...

It was a bad day.

The sun's been missing for a few days now. There had been a big fight in her family, so Fahmeen felt like she was suffocating. There was no escape. Not at home with her family, and school seemed to be getting harder with the exams approaching. She was currently sitting on a bench, not wanting to eat lunch and allowing the outside to give her calm amidst the storm. The school grounds were pretty, oak trees and plenty of grass lined the vast fields used for sports and the like. Georgia wasn't in today and so it felt lonelier without her only friend.

"Everything okay Fahmeen?" She looked up and saw the green eyes, concerned towards her.

"Yeah." She didn't want anyone to ask about her problems, it was easier that way.

"You sure? You don't look like it." He sat beside her slowly, watching her. She didn't reply and so he continued.

"Have you got any more questions for me? I think it'd be good to go over some at the end of the day?" He leaned in, still keeping at a distance but she could sense his closeness. It felt good having him close to her. When it felt like no one else was.

"Hey." He whispered. She saw him almost touch her hand and her heart stilled not only out of anticipation but worry someone would see them.

"Talk to me. You can talk to me." He looked around and she felt his hand on her chin turning her face to his.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me." Their eyes met and she gave in.

"Problems at home."

"What kind of problems?" He sounded anxious.

"Arguments. With everyone... nobody's talking to each other." She looked down because the tears were coming fast.

"I feel so lonely." She sat up and wiped away her tears.

"I'm sorry, it's just because we're close so this time, this argument feels really bad, Rolf. Like it can't be fixed."

"Things can always be fixed." He said softly, one finger stroking her hand.

"Not everything, Rolf. Not everything." She stood and grabbed her bag.

"I'll see you in class."

The professor stood too and she looked up at him. He leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"Stay after class." Pulling away, he waited for her answer. She nodded and he smiled at her before going inside the building.

Fahmeen's POV:

I don't know what to call it. This feeling. My mind feels closed off, even as I sit here waiting for the end of class. My professor keeps looking at me. He is checking on me, I think. Even that's confusing. Feelings are overrated.

As usual nobody talked to me. They hardly look at me, and they think I can’t notice that. But I do. I always do. Georgia's absence couldn't be on a worse day.

I'm hoping the trip would change things. Just thinking about travelling all the way to London to watch Antony and Cleopatra has lightened the intensity of my own mind. The professor did it. He managed to arrange what he promised to do.

A man of his word.

My feelings towards him have only become... more. And it doesn't help when he always finds a way to talk to me. No one has ever cared for me like that before. I was still in my thoughts when Emilio walked into the classroom. He looked excited, and his eyes found mine. I smiled at him, he smiled back! Gosh, the stupid grin of my face was hard to disguise afterwards.

"Hello, what can I do for you?" Rolf stood, gesturing for the class to continue the task. I could tell he was pissed. He crossed his arms and was obviously taller than Emilio, I think he was trying to intimidate him. Rolf takes off his glasses and waits.

"Sorry to disturb you, Professor. But Ms. Wilson would like to talk with you about the trip?"

"How do you know of the trip?" The Professor was clenching his jaw, clearly ticked off. Emilio was mildly annoyed but shrugged it off.

"I know a student of yours and we share a teacher. What does it matter? I'm sure you wouldn't mind a few extra students?" Emilio glances at me then.

The professor followed it and his eyes widened slightly in realisation (of something).

"It would be just for the journey. There's not enough of us to hire a separate transport and so the principal thought it would be best to lump us together and then we'd go our separate ways. And then ride back," Emilio added.

"So you'll be doing your own thing in London?"

"Of course. Why would we care for a trip to the theatre?" Emilio almost laughed but he stopped at the expression on the professor's face.

"Well, I don't see why not. Tell Ms. Wilson I'm okay with that."

"Alright. Thanks, sir." Emilio turns for the door and leaves.

I almost wanted to release a breath because it felt quite tense. Professor Rolf sat back at his desk and then looked at me. I think he was daydreaming because he didn't stop. Continuing with my work, I tried to ignore it. It was like I could feel his eyes burning into me.

All over me.

It was just the two of us now and it felt like one of my many dreams about him. It still felt slightly tense following Emilio's interruption.

"I'm guessing you're the student he was referring to?"

"Sorry?" I look up from checking a few messages from my phone and he's walking to my desk.

"Emilio. You both have Ms. Wilson, am I correct?" Not going to lie, it was super hard to ignore the way his trousers fit so snug. I mean come on, he was standing right in front of me. I could, if I was a pervert, see where everything was. I look up to his face.

"Shall we do questions now?" It takes a few seconds for him to understand what I'm saying and he nods, taking the seat besides me. That's a first. He's always opposite me.

He rubs his hands together. He has nice hands. Sleeve rolled up, veins and hair and umph the masculinity of it is hot.

As I'm opening up my book, trying to find some we can go through he speaks. From very close to my ear. His breath blows a few strands of my hair.

"Do you like Emilio?" He whispers.

I can't look at him. I'm too nervous about his closeness. My heart is racing. Palms, sweaty.

"He's a good person. Everyone likes Emilio."

"I wouldn't say everyone." I face him and he looks serious. I thought he might be messing with me.

"What does it matter?"

"Do you like Emilio, Fahmeen?" I know what he meant. The space between us was hardly there. I dared not look at his lips like he kept looking at mine.

"I don't think that's appropriate, Professor." I whisper. I don't know how to act. We can't get caught like this.

He smirks.

"What's wrong with me asking? I'm merely curious about one of my best students." He said the word “curious” suspiciously.

How did his chair get closer to mine?

I didn't answer him at first. I can't. I don't know what to say anymore. I think we've crossed an invisible line. But I don't care.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong with you asking. You can ask me anything you like." This was daring for me, I'm sure he could hear my heartbeat. He puts his hand over mine and strokes it, slow and soothingly. He leans back in his chair.

"You're dangerous. And the best part is? You don't even know." I am baffled, watching him stand with my book of questions.

"I'll give this back to you tomorrow marked. Look forward to reading it." He winks at me and sits at his desk. I'm a little disappointed he stays there as I'm at the door now.

"Thanks. I'll see you then."

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