Under The Jasmine Tree ✔

🖌The 5 stages of Love

Lyra;

"Samuel, please read your answer to the class." Mr. Benjamin, our English professor, called out to a student.

The student got up from his chair and walked to the front of the lecture hall with his answer on paper in his hand. he looked up meeting the eyes of some of the students while clearing his throat nervously.

I'm so lucky to not be in his place right now, I thought. why? because-

"The question states; what are the 5 stages of love in your opinion?" the teacher interrupts my train of thoughts. the student, Samuel, clears his throat for the umpteenth time since he got up from his seat and starts reading his answer.

"To me, the 5 stages of love are: falling in love, becoming a couple, disillusionment, creating lasting love, and finding a calling as a couple." a blush spreads across his face as he reads his answer.

This man will probably die from embarrassment before the bell rings. The guys in the back of the hall continuously snicker and throw humiliating insults towards the student. Fucking juveniles.

"Thank you, Samuel. And will the young men in the back refrain from their childish behavior for the next 20 minutes left in class, or I will have to report you to the office. Again." Mr. Benjamin ran a hand across his face from frustration.

"Why are we even doing this?" one of the students that were snickering in the back yelled out.

"So, the men that call love a sappy and stupid thing learn how to stop drinking toxic masculinity." The class went pin-drop silent.

"Now, You, Freshman!" The professor pointed my way "Come down and read out your answers."

He's cut off by the lecture hall's doors bursting open. Everyone's attention was on the Guy who just entered the classroom with so much force. The man looked like he could poke someone's eye out from his anger. With an iron rod.

"Ah, Mr. Davis. How nice of you to enter this class so respectfully. please have a seat." The professor looked like he was about to end his life then and there. He was questioning his choice in choosing teaching as a career.

The guy couldn't care less and started searching for a seat, while I sat up and walked to the front of the hall with my answer paper.

"Please read your answer, Ms..?" The professor drawled

"My name is Lyra Garcia" I stood in front of the class.

"Right, Ms. Garcia. please read your answer. To the students who just came, the question is: what are the 5 stages of love in your opinion?" Mr. Benjamin repeated for the billionth time this class.

I looked down at my paper and started reading my answer "To me, the 5 stages of love are actually 7 stages, which are: attraction, infatuation, love, trust and reverence, worship, madness, death."

I looked up to assess the class's reaction to my answer to find some students trying to hide their laughter, others not paying attention, and some sleeping. my eyes continued scanning the crowd till they stopped on the only attentive face.

The only person who was paying attention to my answer coincidentally happens to be the guy who almost broke the hall's doors.

His eyes held a sort of amusement, not the type that hid a sense of irony behind it. No, it was an amusement full of joy, like he finally found the book he was searching for after hours of foraging.

"Does anyone have questions for Ms. Garcia?" the professor asked the students

none had any questions.

"Okay then, please go back to your seat-" He stopped when a student's hand was raised.

It was the same guy who entered the class like a mammoth, sat in my empty seat, and looked at me in . "Can you explain why your last 3 stages were worship, madness, and death?"

I debated whether I would answer that and embarrass myself even more or lie my way out.

"It's because the word 'I love you' sounds like a prayer to me, like you're worshipping who you love and devoting your life and soul to them. It soon turns into madness, so much that you can't think of your life before or without them. Finally, the truest form of love is the one where solely death separates those two lovers." I chose the former option of embarrassing myself.

The man's eyes turned from amusement to curiosity. like he was wondering how to feel about what I've said. Like he was wondering how someone like me could say something like that or even feel something like that. Or I would hope so.

His eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "Have you felt those last 3 stages?" he pressed on.

I shook my head "No, I wouldn't be alive if did." I smiled softly as I watched his face morph from confusion to that same expression of amusement he had, except now it was pure amusement.

the bell rang, breaking my train of thoughts that were trying to figure out this confusing man.

"Alright class, don't forget to open your emails tonight to find the information you need about your English and art projects including your partner's names" the professor yelled over the voices of students who hurried to leave the class

I walked back up the hall's stairs against the flow of students, so I could reach my desk, grab my things, and escape. Once in front of my desk, I found the 'amused man' still sitting on my chair.

"I'm sorry, could you pass me the bag under the chair you're on?" I pointed towards my bag

he looked at me for a second, like he was still thinking about what've asked of him, then bent down and grabbed my bag for me.

"Thank you" I smiled as he passed it to me. he just nodded his head once in recognition and continued his train of thoughts.

I turned around and walked out of the classroom, but not before hearing the professor tell the man something that shattered my heart.

"Mr. Davis, you cannot dwell on your past. you most certainly cannot hate the whole world because of what fate has done to you. you also can't pour your pain into music and art without telling a soul about your true troubles." he sighed

"What do you expect me to do when the person who you lived for left you alone? do you sit and cry? or do you follow them to the darkness beyond?" the 'amused man' replied with no emotion in his voice .

I scurried away from the lecture hall, feeling like I'd intruded on a private moment or someone's past. I walked away with my head hung low in shame. In shame of wanting to know what that past was.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It's the author here!

I hope you liked this first chapter. there's no telling how many chapters this book will have (I remember wanting the mafia king to be 30-ish chapters and now it 63. oops)

~please tell me if the pace we're going in is too slow or too fast. and if you have any constructive criticism, please include that in the comments, it would much appreciated~

Love, Mariecurie023