Don't Cry

Don't Cry

Yaren’s palm was damp as she raised her hand to knock on the professor's door. Despite the professional pretense of the email she'd just received, this felt less like reporting for work and more like giving into her sinful attraction to him. She took a deep, shaky breath before knocking twice.

"Come in." She heard him answer from inside, and it his voice had her heart sinking once more. She was certainly going to have a heart attack at this point.

'Breathe Yaren....' she tried to calm herself to no avail.

Nonetheless, she unlocked the door and opened it slowly, and she was completely breathless when she stepped in.

The professor was seated behind his desk as always, but his gaze wasn't fixed on papers or his screen like it usually was, it were fixed on her.

Yaren instantly felt super self-conscious. Her hands moved to check her blouse for wrinkles. She was glad she'd at least worn something nice today; a short plaid skirt and a satin button down blouse. She was acutely aware of the lingering warmth between her legs; being around him made her almost feel what he'd done to her yesterday, and her body craved his touch so badly.

"Good evening, professor." She managed to say though her voice barely sounded at all.

He nodded.

"Good evening, Yaren." He replied simply, almost completely professionally. "Close the door."

She nodded quickly before turning around to close the door with a trembling hand.

"Have a seat," he instructed, gesturing at the leather armchair directly in front of his desk.

Her heart was thudding heavily against her chest, and the fact that his gaze remained fixed on her made her legs wobble as she walked to the chair and sank into it. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk, it made him look mkre intimidating than he already was.

"Before we discuss your reinstatement," he began. "I need to know you've given this some thought."

He paused, his eyes searched hers through her glasses before he continued. "Yesterday... we crossed a line that can't be uncrossed. I won't pretend the email was purely administrative. I put it to you plainly: have you thought about everything carefully? About the nature of this situation, the risks involved, and the fact that you are willingly stepping back into it?"

Yaren swallowed hard, she forced some air back into her lungs. She had thought about nothing but this, the fear was immense, yes, but it was eclipsed by the desperate longing to be near him, to know this wasn't a one-time mistake.

"Yes, sir," she managed to reply quietly. "I have."

A flicker, something close to relief, crossed his eyes, but it vanished instantly. He nodded.

"And?"

He wanted to know what she thought about all this? He wanted her to tell him what had been bugging her?

"Professor," she began quietly, her voice still trembled but she forced herself to go on without stuttering. "What is this?"

She paused for a second to let out a shaky breath then continued. "I need to know."

She didn't want to think all this was simply because he wanted to have sex with her. The thought was like a knife between plunged into her heart mercilessly. If all this was just a temporary release for a man who had everything and wanted something more, she'd lose her mind.

He straightened up, leaning back in his chair. He swiveled once, and then twice, all the while his gaze held hers.

"I can't give you a clear answer, Yaren," he admitted, his tone was softer now, less professional. "I don't know what it is."

And Yaren found herself unable to breath until he continued.

"I know the optics are terrible. I know that after what happened yesterday, you may have concluded that I am merely attracted to you physically, and your conclusion is logical. But if all I wanted was easy, discreet sex, there are a dozen other options that don't carry the risk of professional suicide."

He leaned forward once more to once again rest his elbows on the desk. "I can only be honest about what I feel; I am sure I want to get to know you better, more intimately than I am allowed. I want to spend time with you. Something about you intrigues me, I want to find out what and why."

Yaren let out a shaky breath as she lowered her gaze from his, his eyes had become too intense. Her heart was pounding heavily and her hands were twitching in her lap.

He wanted to get to know her, he wanted to find out what it was about her that intrigued him, even she wanted to find out. She still found it very difficult to believe that something about her had actually gotten the professor's attention, intrigued him even.

"I don't know how you got into my head so quickly. I've spent two weeks trying to sever the connection, to pay you off and send you away, and I couldn't do it." The professor continued, his voice was lower now, it was almost intimate. "I know this is complicated, but I assure you I have only good intentions towards you. I will not hurt you, I will not compromise your future. But I cannot let you go."

She was relieved that he didn't just want her body, but her chest was he was heavy and tight with a lot of emotions. Her eyes welled up instantly, and she began to cry quietly. She lowered her head and as the tears went streaming down her cheeks, she wiped them away quickly but more escaped her eyes.

All this was new to her, and it was overwhelming. She didn't know what to do, she didn't know how to get rid of the heaviness in her chest.

"Don't cry," he sighed with a tenderness that made her sob harder. "Look at me."

She knew her face was all flushed and blotched and she didn't want to, but something about the way he said it didn't sound like he was asking. She slowly raised her head, forcing herself to endure the sight of his intense gaze through her blurred vision.

"Talk to me." He said. "What's on your mind?"

Everything was on her mind at the same time, but most importantly.....

"Your wife," she whispered. "What about your wife?"

The shift in the room was immediate, she noticed the professor seemed to withdraw a bit, the tender look in his eyes turned cold and distant, but not harsh. It was clear he didn't want to talk about that, he didn't want to answer.

"Don't worry about that." He replied. But that wasn't an answer.

It confined that she was not a replacement but an outside element, a distraction perhaps. The ache in her chest returned and it seemed more intense, more deathly.

He abruptly changed the subject on noticing the look in her eyes. He leaned back into the role of her professor, his tone returned to being professional.

"How is your mom's health now? Is the compensation I sent sufficient for the surgery?"

The sudden shift was jarring, it pulled her back to the reality of her obligations. She nodded slowly, and she responded quietly, reciting the details of her mother's improving health and the financial relief the money had provided, but her mind wasn't focused on the conversation.

"And your studies," he pressed. "You missed a significant amount of class time. Your grades cannot suffer because of this. You need to focus. Can you assure me you will catch up this week?"

She nodded once more.

"Yes, sir," she murmured, clutching her hands in her lap. The more he asked such questions, the more she was reminded that she was just an inexperienced child dealing with a man who'd had time to navigate his way around life and decide what he wanted for himself and how he wanted to live.

She was visibly nervous and trembling, she knew she was acting like a frightened child, but the emotional whiplash, the sudden withdrawal, and the burning intensity of his gaze were overwhelming.

He continued to watch her with darkened eyes. He let the silence hang as he studied her reaction, taking in the pitiful sight she made before he blew out a resigned breath.

"Come here, Yaren."