university | lrh

40 - trust me

Elise Halder
————

"It's not too late to shave your head, you know."

For a moment, I had almost forgotten where we were headed. We being Cassie and I, and where being the classroom belonging to my English professor—of whom I'm fully in love with—and his IA—of whom happens to be the ex girlfriend of the man I'm in love with.

Just an average, simple scenario at any typical University.

"Tempting." I mutter.

Cassie reaches behind her, fumbling for the zipper to her bag. "I'm serious. I've got an electric shaver right here in this baby." She pats her bag and I stop walking to look at her fully.

"Cass," I start, amused. "Why do you have a shaver in your school bag?"

"What, you don't?"

"I-what?" I laugh. "No, I don't."

She shakes her head in disappointment. "Shame."

At this point, it shouldn't surprise me, but I still find myself wanting to know more. "Right, I'm the weird one," she nods in agreement. "Seriously, where did you get that?"

"I stole it from Michael." She shrugs.

She doesn't elaborate and I roll my eyes. "Again, why?"

"So he can't shave his beard."

"He doesn't have a beard, Cass."

"Not yet," she grins. "Now he has to grow it out."

I shake my head. "Didn't know you were into that."

She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at me playfully. "Are you really one to talk when it comes to preferences? Miss teacher kink."

My eyes widen—though, again, I'm not sure why I'm surprised anymore. "I do not have a—"

"Right, sure you don't," She cuts me off with an amused grin. "I'll be sure to remember that next time I walk in on you and Mr. sir-kink on his desk—"

"Cassie!" I groan, clamping a hand over her mouth, only to yank it back when she licks it. "Ew," I glare. "We weren't even doing anything bad."

"Oh please," she snorts. "I saw his wandering hands. A second later and I would've had to gouge my eyes out."

"Dramatic," I mutter. "We were kissing."

"That's how it always starts." She grins, patting my cheek in a patronizing manner before walking off with an amused pep in her step.

I hate to admit it, but I was fully lying to myself and her about where that particularly heated moment in that classroom was headed not too long ago. Of course, she was right—it hadn't started out as anything past innocent. It was our normal after class routine, and I sat with my legs crossed in boredom atop Luke's desk while he read through essay after essay.

I couldn't really complain, because watching Luke  focused intently with a pen between his teeth was quite a sight. I couldn't help but giggle at the way his face would change depending on the material he read—from shock, to confusion, to utter disappointment at the lack of grammar skills our class held.

Usually he doesn't notice my staring, but this time I had to clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle the very obvious laugh that wanted to escape at the way he was shaking his head in bewilderment at whatever nonsense a student had written. He noticed, and he had glanced up at me with an eyebrow raised.