Deviance | 18+ | ✓ | REWRITING

i v .

Marie had found the building and room number of Professor Dameron's office on the class syllabus. It was in the newly renovated psychology building at the heart of campus.

Taking the marble staircase to the second floor, Marie reached room 111 - well, more like suite 111.

The man probably meant a lot to the university. Marie often scoffed at the overly prestigious pedestal Wentworth was placed on. At the end of the day, everyone gets the same thing from college upon completion - a degree. Marie just paid a higher price and was now facing deeper debt. All for essentially more bragging rights. Most of her tuition was probably going to this man's paycheck.

Nathaniel's blinds weren't drawn, allowing Marie to take a look inside inconspicuously. He was too engrossed in reviewing a graduate student's grant proposal for an upcoming research forum. Marie couldn't help but stare. Nathaniel was at his grand mahogany desk, his head resting on his hand propped up against the flat surface. His other hand twiddled a pen, the sleeves of his white button-down folded up to expose his forearms. Marie studied his defined features, all tensed up in deep thought and discernment.

Snapping out of it, Marie finally mustered the courage to knock on the door. She was just going to turn this god-damn paper in, turn around, and get shitfaced with her friends.

Nathaniel looked up at the sound of someone at his door, his eyes locking with Marie through the window. He signaled for her to come in with his hand.

Nathaniel didn't think much of the encounter. He had helped students on his own time before. He was a good professor. Marie just... intrigued him. Nathaniel didn't want to explain it. He couldn't.

Nathaniel finally got a full look at Marie as she stepped into his office. He gripped the pen in his left hand to the point that it was almost about to snap. It wasn't what she was wearing, but why. It was a Friday night and Marie was a young college student at her prime - it would be obtuse to think she wasn't going to live a weekend night to the fullest. For some reason, the thought angered the professor.

Especially after she dropped her stapled assignment on his desk and had the audacity to turn her back to walk out the door.

Brat.

"Sit." Nathaniel never asked. He ordered.

Marie stilled. The demanding tone made her thighs press together every so slightly and butterflies in her stomach to somersault. Fuck.

Nathaniel didn't do brattiness. He didn't like to be questioned, talked back to, or disrespected - no one dared as the man took consequences seriously. His past parters would attest to that. The fact that Nathaniel was starting to take this situation with Marie as a challenge even scared him. He didn't know how far he would go...or how far Marie would let him go.

Marie made her way to the seat in front of Nathaniel's desk, immediately crossing her legs and adjusting her jacket to display some professionalism. Nathaniel was too busy flipping through the pages of Marie's assignment to notice, periodically underlining and making a note in the margins.

Marie took the time to look around the professor's place. The overall architecture relied heavily on dark, mahogany wood emphasized by the desk and bookcase behind it. Marie spotted a few authors amongst the otherwise academic books, from Albert Camus to Gabriel García Márquez. Opposite the door were large, paned windows that overlooked other lit-up collegiate buildings. Lastly, there was a small setup of a coffee table and leather chairs towards the end of the room presumably for meetings. Marie would exchange this place for her crappy apartment in a heartbeat.

Nathaniel finally set everything down and clasped his hands in front of him, looking intently at Marie. "I'll give you a B, we can negotiate a B+. There are typos and run-ons but if you're willing to converse with me about what you wrote...I'll overlook it."