This Love. | Professor Stan

chapter twenty-two | impulse

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"Hi pet", your dad greets you once you've got in the car and lugged in your bags for the holiday stay.

"Hey! Good to see you. Mum's cooking?", seeing that she wasn't in the back as usual.

"Lasagna. Apparently your favourite last time you called", he says, speeding through the city. You smile a little to yourself. Sebastian made you lasagne the first proper night you stayed over, so naturally, you enjoyed it. You just told your parents that at the cafeteria it was really good.

You and your dad didn't talk much for the hour-and-something drive, letting the music fill in the silence. The two of you only seemed to get along whenever it suited him.

But it seemed to be getting better since you introduced him to the wonders of Lana Del Rey. It was something of yours that he actually enjoyed. He remembers it and changes the CD to Ultraviolence instead. You turn your head and grin at him as a thank you.

Before you know it, you were back in your childhood bedroom. It never changed much over the years, as this setting made you comfortable. Pink walls donned with butterflies, One Direction posters and doodles; you felt like you were stepping back in time. You almost regretted not taking an art elective, having another look at the drawings that donned the walls- if you could even call it art.

You sit down on the double bed, still in the pink polka dot sheets you had throughout high school, cringing at how adolescent the whole room was. Admittedly, you were still what many tiny boys consider to be too girly to play with, but you grew into it. It was just a part of you, not defining you anymore as it used to. You let yourself go, accepting whatever you felt you should try if it caught your attention.

Which is what you did in your love life too. You had been wary of falling for a professor, promising yourself that no matter how delicious he looked, you would not become one of those Y/N novels you were obsessed with in middle school.

Yet, here you were, calling Mr. Stan your boyfriend. It felt odd to call him that, considering his age. Not that the age gap didn't matter to you, but saying 'boyfriend' made it feel like he wasn't the man you had feelings for. Like he was a toy. You knit your brows in thought, trying to think if there were any words in the dictionary that would be able to describe your relationship to him, as if it would ever be enough.

You're called back to reality when you hear dinner you mum screaming that dinner was served. You drag yourself to the table, thankful for some food now that you were nursing a hangover, and hoping you wouldn't have to talk much.

Unfortunately, soon the topic of your grades come up. Shit. You were always terrible at lying. Bad grades meant no more money from your parents.

"How's everything going then? Exams okay?", your father asks first of all. His mouth full of salad as he spoke. It really annoyed you how there was one rule of him, and another rule for everyone else.

"Yeah I think so. They were... hard", gulping down some water in an effort to wash down the guilt.

"That's what I pay for", he says from across the table.

"Well, history wasn't so bad. I knew what I was doing at least", ignoring his comment as usual.

"Aw, that's always been your strong point honey", your mum patting your hand in an effort of admiration.