Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang (Teacher-Student Romance Robert Downey Jr.)

Don't.

When you like someone, the feeling you get is easy to describe. For me it was always happiness. Everything seems so simple and all the problems you've ever had just disappear. Nothing can make the smile on your face go away or the extra passionate way you walk.
A single word can remind you of something so wonderful that your heart fills itself with warmth.
It's exciting and wild, as well as calm and relaxing at the same time.
But when that person you like hurts you, it's distinctively different.
Never in all your life, could you have imagined that a feeling like that existed.
But it's not only a feeling, it's a certain tone in every voice you hear, a way the sky looks depressing and nothing seems to work out. Every single thing reminds you of something miserable.
The world is disgusting and you feel that the only thing you can tolerate is yourself and an iPod, which only plays Elliott Smith.
First, the worst thing is the broken heart. And then it's like, as if you're world split down in the middle.
After some time, when there have been other guys and more nights and different people, you think that you fixed yourself.
But then, one morning, when you get up and you shower, dress, go out. It happens in a quick moment.
You see them out with someone else. Slowly, it all breaks apart, into all of the pieces, you so carefully glued back together.
And you admit, you may have fucked up a little.
---------
Her voice still appears in my ear, now and then.
The melodic syllables, the way she creates her sentences.
Her voice forms a perfect fitting puzzle piece, to her looks.
"We don't have any guests." Downey reaches for the door handle, but the women stops him and flashes her ridiculously perfect smile, again.
"Wait, how can we help you, Sweetie."
That she calls me 'Sweetie', sets me back to tea with my grandmother. It's as if she makes clear that she's in charge, the older one.
Then I realise that she waits for an answer and I have to come up with an excuse, why I stand on my professor's porch, soaking wet.
"I-I come from the CCR."
The only thing which came to my mind. 'Credence Clearwater Revival', a band that my father adores.
"And how may we help you?"
His glare at me, makes it almost impossible to pay attention to what the stupid angel is saying.
"Excuse me?" I ask.
"I asked, if we could help you." She replies.
"No you didn't."
I need a second to realise that Downey and I just said the same thing, at the same time.
The women looks confused and her eyes wander over my clothes, trying to find out what I want. Her glance lands on Downey. He shifts uncomfortable and presses his body against the door.
"You did not exactly say 'can' we help you, you said 'may' we help you, which in this case sends a different impression to the receiver, due to the different connotation."
I expected her to be angry, but there was just this wonderful smile on her ever so perfect face. "You're such a weirdo." Then her body leans against him and her lips touch his cheek. Leaving a little lipstick stain on them. I can't hold back a small gasp and Downey's eyes wander down on the ground.
"I'm gonna give that poor girl a towel, she's soaking." The angel turns around and disappears into the back of the room.
Downey opens his mouth, when she's out of sight, but I stop him, holding my hand up high.
"Don't." I try to hold back the emotions that are boiling up inside of me. "Don't you dare talk to me."
Breathing in, I step away from him and walk straight to my car. When I sit down, the air pulls itself out of my lungs and I almost can't breathe.
The car starts moving and I let the beach house, disappear in the mirror.
-------
"So, you're telling me that you've had an intimate relationship with Mr. Downey. And that you've developed feelings for him and now he's fucking a Victoria's Secret angel?"
Aaron looks at me, as if I had just told him that I'm in love with him. Immediately after I arrived home, I had called him and finally opened up.
"That pretty much sums it up." I agree.
He jumps from my bed and walks through my room. "I can't believe that you're the first one to have a sexy affair with a teacher."
"Oh no, he's not a teacher, he's a professor." I say.
He frowns and looks at me, confused.
"Long story." I let myself fall backwards into the pillows and cover my eyes. "I can't believe I was so stupid! How could I even think that he was interested in more than sex."
"I mean, I'm so close to get Mr. Thomas to give me one more detention and let me tell you, he's so gonna punish me." Aaron winks and I grimace.
"She was so pretty. Really Aaron, I've never seen someone so perfect in real life." I tell him.
He is pulling at the jacket of his baby blue suit and the red bow tie. There isn't a day, when he's not perfectly styled. His black hair is always straightened and pulled back with a lot of wax. If you think about it, he kind of looks like a gay 'Doctor Who'.
"Honey. I know, people always just say this, but let me tell you. If he doesn't see how extraordinary, witty, smart, hilarious and beautiful you are, he's a complete jerk. And being a professor won't help with that issue. So let him fuck every underwear model that he wants, you shouldn't be sitting here, mourning. You're worth so much more!"
I grab a piece of Hershey's chocolate, laying on my nightstand.
"That's the problem. I know exactly, what a freaking idiot he is. But he still has that effect on me. When our eyes meet or our hands touch, every time I feel something that's indescribable, something I've never felt with anyone before." I mumble, between Hershey kisses.
"You know what you should do?" Aaron says and a big smile appears on his face.
"What?" I ask.
"Just show him that he hasn't got any effect on you. He needs to see that you couldn't care less, about anything he does. Ignore him, but don't be disrespectful, just like nothing has ever happened."
I sniff and frown. "You think that will work?"
He shakes his head. "I think that it will help you to get over this dilemma." Aaron tells me, lays down next to me and throws his arm around my shoulder.
"We need to go down to the mattresses."
"Excuse me?" I ask and turn towards him.
"It's from the godfather. It means that you have to fight! Fight to the death."
I laugh and get up from the bed, throwing a cardigan on. "Alright Marlon Brando, let's get some coffee."
Aaron jumps up, straightens his suit and checks himself in the mirror.
"Yeah. Let's kick some ass!"