Mr. Murphy's Mattress

iv. Cillian

"Attendance," Mr. Murphy called out, causing the students to all quiet down. He read out the names per usual, and the two of you kept making intense eye contact.

"Y/N," he read out.

"Here." You raised your hand and Mr. Murphy nodded to you.

Later on in the class, you were starting to get extremely bored. You wanted Mr. Murphy's attention— and you would get it any way you could.

You raised your hand in the middle of his lecture. "Excuse me Mr. Murphy, can I go to the bathroom?"

"Can't it wait, Y/N?" The Irish teacher asked, setting his paper down.

"No, I'm afraid it can't. I'm on my period right now and I can feel it leaking through my pants." You bit your lip, trying not to burst out into laughter seeing how distraught Mr. Murphy looked.

Your friends and other students laughed at the gross remark. You were absolutely amused. "Ah, yeah, go ahead," Mr. Murphy cleared his throat and you headed to the bathroom, sending him a wink on your way out.

When you came back, the class was seemingly forced to read the textbook and write down notes. You headed over to Mr. Murphy's desk and leaned down to him. "Hey, Mister," you whispered.

He looked up at you. "Y/N, what do you want?"

"You," you whispered teasingly, winking at him.

"No you don't," Mr. Murphy said firmly before sighing. He continued grading the paper he had. You shook your head and grabbed the pencil from him.

"See you after class, Cillian," you mumbled, leaving a surprised Mr. Murphy at his desk.

After what felt like years, the bell finally rang. Students flooded out and it was just you and Mr. Murphy then. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He asked.

"I'm not sure what you mean," you looked at him with your innocent puppy eyes.

"You know exactly what I mean," he said, slamming his mug on his desk. "First, you humiliate me in front of my class.." He starts coming straight at you, and points his finger against your chest. "Then you say you want me, then you call me by my first name?"

"You told me to," you corrected, crossing your arms. "That finger isn't scaring me."

"Is this?" He raised his fist threateningly, to which you flinched slightly.

"Just because your father hit you doesn't mean you get to hit me!" You shouted, watching as Mr. Murphy lowered his fist slowly. "I'm sorry," you whispered.

"Get out," he mumbled.

"But I—"

"Get. Out." He shouted, pointing to the door. "And you better not come walking back in here asking for that ffffucking grade of yours!"

You stared at him for a second, tears filling your brown eyes before you quickly ran out and ran to your dorm.

You wanted to hate him. You wanted nothing to do with the man anymore, but you couldn't hate him. You needed him as much as he needed you.

By midnight, you were awake and still sulking. You missed him to death. When suddenly, you heard a knock on your bedroom door. "Scar, please," you mumbled. The door opened, and you saw a puffy-eyed, shivering cold Mr. Murphy. You sat up.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," he said softly, making his way to your bed. You reached up and felt his hands. They were freezing cold. He'd walked all that way in below freezing weather.

You couldn't help but burst into tears. Seeing him so sad, so heartbroken over you was devastating. "Come here," you said through sobs.

Mr. Murphy wrapped his arms around you and laid down beside you, holding you close. "You poor thing," he whispered, shivering as he held you.

"Get under," you whispered, pulling the blankets over the two of you. "I'm sorry for what I said about your father."

"It's alright," he sighed. "You were right. He hit me, but I shouldn't even raise a hand to you."

"It must've been so scary," you whispered.

"Does the thought of me gross you out?" Mr. Murphy asked, looking at you.

"If I'm being honest, at first, it did. But I realized how alike we are," you smiled, wiping his tears.

"And now?" He asked. "Now, what do you think of me?"

"I think you're smart," you whispered. "You're sweet, you're gentle, you're inspiring. One of my biggest inspirations."

"No, Y/N," he chuckled. "I appreciate it, but I mean, what do you think of me." He slid his hand up your shirt and kissed your head. "Of this," he whispered.

You tilted your head and grinned. "You mean, romantically or sexually?" You laughed.

"Both," he sighed.

You clicked your tongue and smiled at him. "I really like you. I do," you said. "But you and I both know we can't—"

He kissed you hard, running his hand through your hair. "We can," he said breathily in between a kiss. You gently pushed him off though, after a few seconds, and he stared at you. "Well what?"

"Mr. Murphy, you're really sweet, but you're married. It was a one time thing, remember? Go back to your wife and love her. Love your kids," you said smiling, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Mr. Murphy looked away from you and rolled onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling and sighed. "I'll never understand you," he muttered. "First you want me, now you want me to go back home to my wife and kids like nothing happened?"

"Please, Mr. Murphy—"

"Cillian. Please, Cillian."

"...Cillian, you can't sleep with your student like this anymore."

"But it's more than that," He threw his hands up and sat up. "It's fucking more than that, can't you see? Why did I run all this way for you, huh?"

"Because you're lost," you whispered in response. "Do you think you'll find something in me?"

"I didn't find something in you, I found you," he explained frustratedly. "God, won't you listen? You're what I want."

"We can't, Cillian," you shook your head. "You know we can't."

He got up and pulled from his duffel bag a book. It was titled The Pillars Of The Earth. He tossed it at you and head out of the dorm, closing the door quietly behind him.

Fuck.