Him
T HE PROFESSOR COULDN'T reach for his phone fast enough when he saw it vibrate and slide towards the edge of his desk.
Diana: Good night, Professor.
He inhaled deeply and told himself to play it cool. There wasn't any need to reply, and he liked to think she wasn't one of those snowflake types that he thoroughly despised and who would find offense in just about every fucking thing.
So forget what you read and get back to work.
But instead his fingers started moving.
Matthijs: It's two in the morning already.
Diana: I know. :(
The sad face at the end was cute. It shouldn't be, but that was how he found it, and the realization had him cursing under his breath. Goddamn it to hell, but he really had it fucking bad for this girl.
And then a thought occurred to him, and his face hardened.
Matthijs: Out partying late?
He had never fished for information his entire life. Not fucking once. And if she let it slip that she was out partying with another guy and she was stupid enough to come to his class tomorrow hung over, he just might kill her. Then kill himself afterwards because he had never had a thing for girls who lived to club, and Diana had him so blind with lust that he had failed to see the truth about her.
A moment later, her answer in text arrived, and his tension slightly eased as her words dispelled his worst fears.
Diana: I'm working on V2.0 of my proposal. I have a scary professor to impress. I don't want him mad at me again.
Matthijs: Only a heartless bastard could be mad at you.
Diana: Oh, I don't think so. He can get mean and cruel, and he has a way with words that can rip you into pieces, but I don't think he's heartless. TBH...I think he's rather hot.
Matthijs: And I think you're a masochist.
Diana: *blush* If anyone else had said that, I'd totally find it creepy. But when it's you...
The professor scowled. Don't say it. Don't fucking say it. Don't. But he was already reaching for his iPhone, and as he hit Send on his message—-
Matthijs: It turns you on?
Her reply had arrived at the same fucking time.
Diana: It turns me on.
And upon seeing it, the professor was back to cursing in seven languages. He drove his fingers through his hair in a fit of frustration and clenched and unclenched his fist. But neither helped, and his body, which far from cooling down had instead turned into a tightly coiled mass of sexual need.
Diana: Oh. Wow.
Matthijs: This doesn't change things.
Diana: But it does. Because whether you like it or not...You're already close to choosing me.
The professor, being no idiot, knew when to pick his battles.
Matthijs: I'll see you tomorrow.
Diana: But I want to talk some more. :(
Matthijs somehow found the strength to turn his iPhone off for the night. If he didn't, those cute emojis of her would end up getting him to do fucking anything.
Leaning back against his seat, he closed his eyes wearily and thought to himself, What the fuck am I doing? Hadn't he told her - and himself - that nothing could happen between them? So why the hell were they still playing this game and acting like they had a fucking future?
He briefly considered finishing the rest of his work, but burning the midnight oil - once a favorite hobby of his - had lost its appeal, and he eventually ended up lying in bed, staring sightlessly at the skylight above him as sleep continued to evade his clutches.
His mood remained black and destructive the next morning, and he had to take several deep breaths before entering his class, not wanting to risk fucking up and taking his anger out on her again.
But as soon as he entered the room, his gaze found hers, and he realized right away he had been worrying for nothing. A single glimpse of the shy but eager look in her sweet doe eyes, and the professor was done for. He was an animal in heat and mindless slave all rolled into one fucked-up mess, and even knowing this - he didn't give a damn.
God, how he wanted her .
And then he noticed the way his students were staring at him oddly, and the professor let out a cough.
Dammit.
He had been standing in front of his class like an idiot who had been asked to illustrate a correlation between the theories of nihilism and general relativity.
And all because she was there.
His gaze drifted towards her one last time, and he saw her bite back a smile.
Fuck.
He found that cute, too.
As well as being a massive turn-on—-
Ah, shit.
Get yourself together, idiot.
The professor snatched the clipboard on his desk and began rattling out names of students who had failed to propose something feasible in the last class. He noticed the way the whole class turned to Diana when he said her name, and regret bit into him as memories of their last encounter returned with a vengeance.
You're an even bigger idiot than I gave you credit for.
This was enough to make him wince, but when he caught sight of her in his peripheral vision, her face was a lovely blank canvas, and damned if he knew what to make of it.
Unlike before, students on their second round of submissions were given a tougher assignment by the professor. Aside from having to come up front and present their idea to the class, they were also required to submit the first three chapters of their proposal.
The professor had always thought this a fair price to pay for having another shot at his class.
Or at least he used to until now, and he had to bear the sight of Diana coming to stand next to his desk, knowing that he'd only have himself to blame if she ended up suffering any kind of embarrassment.
He saw her take a deep breath and felt like doing the same.
Goddammit, maybe he should make up some excuse—-
"I was waiting at the bus stop yesterday when I overheard two women talking their everyday lives, and from what I could glean from their stories, they were overworked and underpaid as well as being constantly subjected to various types of workplace abuse and harassment.
"One of them had a bedridden mother to support while another was a widow with two children. To say that they had a hard life would be an understatement. To say that they had every right and reason to feel depressed could even be considered a fact. But the thing is, they were not depressed and hadn't even seriously thought of committing suicide to end their torment."
By this time, practically the entire class was spellbound, and so was the professor, who had long realized that he hadn't anything to worry about. By now, it was so obvious to see that she had changed, with the way she was able to meet everyone's gazes with an earnest smile backed by purposeful determination.
A woman with a purpose , the professor thought, and soon it became clear what that purpose was.
"I had the chance to chat with them over dinner, and I was happy when they invited some of their friends over. We spoke for hours, and the whole time, I kept waiting for one of them to say they were sad or tired - that they were feeling so down they just wanted to end it all. But none of them did. All they spoke of was how they had to keep living no matter what - and that was when I realized what made them different. They had people to live for, people whom they were certain would not survive if they were to die, and—-"
She suddenly stopped speaking, doe eyes blinking rapidly, and his fist involuntarily clenched when he realized she was fighting back tears. He turned to his class and saw that it was the same for them, too.
"One of them s-said... if she killed herself, then she might as well have killed her own m-mother, too." Diana paused to swallow hard. "I know what I'm about to propose might not...might be too novel if there's such a thing, but what if - what if we were to give them something or someone to live for, something or someone that they would know with absolute certainty wouldn't survive without them - might that not be enough—-" Diana's voice caught, and this time she had no choice but to wipe the tears that had tracked down her cheeks. "Might it not be enough to keep them from committing suicide?"
It was a question no one in the room had the answer to.
But it didn't matter at this point.
Because by this time, it was more than enough that she was asking the right question, more than enough that she wasn't asking it just to score points. She was asking the question because she wanted to save lives, she was asking this one question because it was her purpose - and everyone saw this.
One by one they came to their feet, their applause growing thunderous as some of them sniffed while others sobbed outright. The professor had never seen such a thing happen in his class before, and when he turned to meet her dark shining eyes—-
Fuck.
Because in her gaze he saw...
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He saw...
His dreams.
His future.
His purpose .
And he was so goddamn fucked.