𝑩𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔 || 𝟏𝟖+
❝The secrecy adds to the trill, doesn't it?❞
The one where young student Grace finds herself in an illicit affair with attractive history teacher James-and ends up falling for him despite knowing she shouldn't.
「mcu...
A/N: 2.45k words... whew! But, do not fear, we're not quite done yet...
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𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒚-𝒐𝒏𝒆: 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅 ━━━━━━━━━
𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃. 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐎𝐍 earth had he not done a singular thing after hearing Grace's words? He had just stood there, feet glued to the hardwood floor in the office, his jeans still too tight around the crotch, his eyes wide and blankly staring at the door she had slammed shut behind her.
But the words had done something to him. They had brought up memories he had shoved to the very back of his brain.
It wasn't like he hadn't wanted to say it back. The second these three words had left Grace's plump, pink lips he adored so much, he realized just how much he loved just about everything about her. But saying it out loud was a different thing altogether.
He was pacing in his apartment, dangerously close to rush out the door in his socks and sweatpants. This was unlike him. Falling for a woman he had promised himself to never fall for, and getting so obsessed with her that even the mere thought of her being with anyone but him made his blood boil with rage.
He had marked her. Hickeys, bruises, every single inch of bare skin kissed and worshiped by him―she was entirely his, and there was nothing he and his hazily spinning mind could do about it.
"Fuck this bullshit," he said for what felt like the thousandth time. He cursed himself for not having run after her just a few hours ago. He picked his phone from the coffee table, on the verge of texting her that was coming over. Maybe he should. His heart was pumping inside his chest, his throat felt too narrow to swallow or even breathe. He had never felt like this before.
Because he had never been so completely and hopelessly in love with anyone.
Never had he felt so protective―almost possessive―of anyone, let alone some barely legal girl he was supposed to be teaching about American History.
He had been in love before, though. He remembered his ex-girlfriend, her stork-like legs, her pouty lips, her strawberry-blonde hair. And the way he had caught her in bed with someone else―how she had apologized with tears in her eyes while her lover was getting into his pants.
How she had told him that she loved him. For the first time. While her damn lover had not even buckled his belt again.
His breath hitched in his throat. When he had heard Grace practically moan these words into his ear, his brain had simply short-circuited. Even after she had left, he had needed another three minutes before trusting himself to move again.
But God, how he wished he could simply say those words back to her. Because she deserved them. Every syllable, every breath stuck in his throat beforehand would be worth it, right?
