This Love. | Professor Stan

chapter five | warm

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"Janet, stay for a moment please?" Mr. Stan asks you as you prepare to leave. With tears in your eyes you turn and listen. It was silly to be upset over a grade, but you were more upset that you let your head get in the way of your education. You should have been focused.

Professor Stan saunters over to you. "Hey, don't worry about it. It's the first essay you did for my class. There's always room for improvement." It's barely above a whisper, even though you are the only two people left in the room. It was like he was speaking lowly, scared that he would make you burst into tears.

As your eyes are fixated on the ground, he crouches down so you can see him. There's a sort of pained look in his eyes, that he's sorry he made you so upset. You're the one who should be sorry. Letting confused feelings get in the way of completing an essay? A childish mistake.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so upset with myself over a grade." You sniffle. You keep reminding yourself that you haven't cried yet. Which was good. You were not going to cry over an essay. You were past that phase.

"That's absolutely fine, darling. If anything, it shows how conscientious you are." He chuckles lightly, and takes off his heavy glasses. An idea pops into his head. And with no intention of getting you on your knees, like he thought about last week when you spilled your coffee in the canteen and was desperately trying to clean it up.

"I can give you extra help if you need it. You know my office hours, and you are more than welcome to come and see me... if you want help with essays", blurting out the last part.

A soft smile paints your face, and Sebastian feels like he can't breathe. He realises that this is probably the closest he's ever been to you, and he wants the moment to last forever. "That would be nice." He can imagine you passing through his office now, looking for a specific book you saw was referenced in a journal. It warms his brittle heart. It's the first sweet thought he has of you, but still suppresses it. He was unaware of how comfortable you were with this.

"Good girl. I'll see you around then". He flashes you a smile, gets up and squeezes your shoulder.

Professor Stan is going to be the death of me, you thought, but still pulled out your phone to see his available office hours for tomorrow.

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Sebastian wants to pace around his office. But his blinds were open and people would see him. He only paced around when he was nervous, and why would he be nervous about his office hours?

He looks up when there is a knock on the door. He closes his tabs and gets up your essay on his laptop, before calling a "Come in!"

You flash him a smile as you walk in, two coffees cups in hand. His eyes trail down, seeing that your jeans were a light shade of green and flared instead today. The opposite of what he was expecting; no matching eyeshadow either.

"I figured you hadn't had a chance to leave, so I brought you some coffee", setting it down in front of him as you take a seat. He mumbles a thanks.

"I-I hope you don't mind me getting black coffee. It's what you ordered last time I was there."

Sebastian smiles softly across the table at you, as you grip your own cup tightly, red on your cheeks. He recalls noticing your jeans on that day, with big slashes and pooling at your feet. "What did you get?"

"A... latte", sipping away, for you were slightly cold that afternoon. But you were taking the opportunity to think of what to say as well.

"Trying to bribe me are we?", both of you sharing a wide grin, Sebastian now slightly leaning over the desk.

You laugh a little, "Maybe. Just wanna know how I should be doing essays", running a hand through your hair to move it out of your face.

He clears his throat a little, remembering why you were here, and his blinds were open.

"Scoot over here", he says to you, turning his laptop towards you. "Got paper and pen?"

You stumble over the words a little, but manage a coherent 'yes sir' as you drag your chair over. He purses his lips together, hating the noise of the legs across the floor, but keeps himself in check. He found it endearing how you flustered at just a few words.

"I handwrite comments, but I scanned them for the purposes of this... meeting", getting distracted for a split second by you crossing your legs.

As time progresses, you end up having discussions surrounding hunter-gather and agricultural societies. Sebastian liked the conversation, noticing how the volume of your voice changed with your level of passion. Finding it adorable how you looked to your side when you were thinking, or spoke as you thought of an answer to his questions. He was directing the conversation, but he let you talk, liking to hear your voice.

Realising that he'd like you to to keep his brittle heart warm. Sebastian did not expect this level of intellectual conversation from even a third year student, knowing that your way with words were nothing like he ever heard before.

You're interrupted by a loud knock. You turn your head to see Tom waiting outside. "Shit, you've hardly made notes."

You raise your brows, surprised at his language. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't realise-"

"Don't stress. I'll send you feedback and a guide for writing history essays. Mind you... I don't share it with just anyone."

He gulps down the last of his coffee. "I'm afraid our hour is up. Don't think you have to do this every time", nodding to their now discarded cups.

"Mind you, I don't do it with all my professors", but then you go red at what you blurted out. You hide your face with your hair as you shove everything back in your bag. "I-I have a lecture to get to."

Sebastian strolls over to the door, opening it for you. "Thank you for the wonderful thoughts Janet. Hope to see more of them on paper", winking again, so quickly that you might have missed it.

"Thank you sir", you whisper as you rush out of the door.

Sebastian can barely listen to Tom's ideas, although when he did listen, they were really good and pretty much aligned with his own. He bit down on his nails, bouncing his leg as he wondered more and more over your instinct to call him 'sir', despite him never saying that.

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