Seduction After Class

✤ Adrian ✤ The classroom always felt calmer after lunch. Always. And the afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows, lighting the dust that floated lazily in the air. My students sat in a loose semicircle with their notebooks open, and a few tapped their pens against the table softly. It was the first week of term, and I leaned back against the edge of my desk and tried to make the mood lighter. “Right, let’s start with something simple,” I said. “Tell me your favorite literary genre. No wrong answers. I only want to know what makes you read,” a few nervous chuckles broke the silence that followed. I pointed at Marc, a quiet student in the front row. “Go,” “Fantasy, sir,” he said. “The good kind with dragons, and adventure quests, all of that. It’s the only place where rules don’t matter,” I nodded, thoughtfully. “Escapism has its purpose. Do you prefer Mayfair or Jones?” I asked, and he grinned. “Jones. More blood, less singing,” he answered, and a ripple of laughter passed through the class, which helped ease the tension. I smiled and motioned to the next student, Amelia, who sat near the window. She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “I like magical realism,” she said. “It’s like the world we know, but with something just slightly off. Ordinary things made strange. It feels…possible,” “Good answer,” I said. “Russell Cornwall would be proud,” I glanced around the sea of faces as I looked for my next victim, but then Sera D’Amour spoke before I could. She wasn’t in the front row, she never was. She sat slightly to the side, her posture relaxed with one arm draped over the chair next to her as if she was at a café, not a lecture. “I like forbidden romance,” Sera announced. There was an immediate pause with a few raised eyebrows. I hadn’t expected that from her. I had expected something more along the lines of modern fiction or even historical drama. “Forbidden how?” I asked as I forced a polite smile. Sera’s lips curved in a way that didn’t look like amusement. “Specifically, teacher-student romances,” she stated boldly, and the room fell silent. Even the hum of the air conditioner seemed to stop. I heard a pen drop somewhere near the back, but Sera continued, unbothered. “It fascinates me. The idea that knowledge and attraction can blur. The balance of power, the danger, the secrecy...it’s honest, in a way most stories aren’t,” I swear I could feel every eye shift toward me. My throat tightened, and I coughed awkwardly to clear it. “That’s…a very particular choice,” I said carefully. Sera tilted her head. “It’s literature, Professor. It’s meant to provoke thought, isn’t it?” a few students laughed, probably out of discomfort, while the others all seemed to look around nervously. I, on the other hand, didn’t want to continue. So, I looked at Wendy. “What about you, Wendy?” I asked her. Wendy, who was seated just a few seats away from Sera, looked startled. “Um...modern romance,” she said quickly. “Normal relationships. People who actually talk instead of hiding things,” her words came out in a rush, and a few students awkwardly laughed. Clearly, Sera had upset more than just me. Another student, Lilly, struck up a friendly debate about different types of modern romance. However, my focus had already drifted. I kept glancing back toward Sera. She was focused on the conversation, but I couldn’t help but notice how she twirled her pen slowly between her fingers. Sera was unbothered that she had caused an awkward moment. She wasn’t embarrassed or shy. In my experience, students who said something unusual would be embarrassed and might even leave the room. But not Sera. “Wouldn’t you agree, Professor?” someone asked, and as I looked around, I saw that all eyes were on me. Including Sera’s. “Well…” I trailed off, unsure of how to answer. I hadn’t been listening. I pushed off the desk and moved around to stand behind my chair. I wasn’t exactly hard, but I was oddly aroused. “I mean, which do you prefer? A slow-burn romance or a fiery instant romance?” that question came from Lilly. I smiled as I slowly shook my head. “Personal preference is what makes literature so unique. There is always something for everyone,” I said, and I couldn’t help it, my gaze lingered on Sera for a second too long. Amelia, Wendy, and a few others continued the debate, but as I tried to calm my racing heart, I noticed that Sera wasn’t interested in the conversation anymore. She was watching me. Sera D’Amour. She wasn’t new. I had seen her before in earlier classes. Always quiet, observant, but sharp in discussions. She had a way of asking questions that sounded like challenges. I had noticed her, of course. She had even come to the office a few times for help. But Professors notice all sorts of things without thinking much of them: who sits near the front, who always arrives late, who takes notes in shorthand. But this was different. Something about the ease with which she had spoken, the calm defiance in her tone. It had unsettled me. It wasn’t the subject itself. Literature was full of transgression. It was her confidence. The way she had looked at me as if daring me to flinch. “Professor?” I blinked, and once again all eyes were on me. I forced a yawn and then an apologetic smile. “Sorry, it’s been a long day...could you repeat that?” I said as I rubbed the back of my neck. Amelia looked slightly amused, as did many others, including Sera. “I said maybe we like forbidden things because we are told not to. Curiosity always wins,” she said, and the class murmured in agreement. I managed a nod, but my attention was shot to s**t. Thankfully, a moment later, the clock struck the hour, and I hurriedly dismissed them. Chairs scraped and notebooks snapped shut. There was the usual shuffle of bags and soft chatter that filled the room. “See you next week, Professor,” a voice said, and I looked up to see Sera smiling sweetly at me. Her eyes were a soft shade of light brown, filled with something I didn’t dare name. She held my gaze for a second too long before she turned and walked out. I glanced around, but the room emptied without any further incidents. And as soon as I was alone, I adjusted myself in my pants, the tightness only irritated me. It wasn’t the first time I had noticed a student. Universities were full of bright, confident young people. Admiration was natural, fleeting, harmless, so long as it stayed where it belonged. But the word forbidden echoed in my mind, and no matter how I tried to dismiss it, the sound of her voice lingered. I sat down and waited for my next lecture to begin, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Sera. Boldness in students could sometimes be a mask for insecurity, how provocation was often a plea for attention. I had a lecture on boundaries next week, maybe I could work it into a discussion about narrative ethics. She was just a student. A confident one, maybe too bold for her own good. That was all. I shuffled some papers around, but in the back of my mind, I told myself that whatever spark that had been lit between us would fade just as quickly as it had appeared. I wasn’t sure I quite believed it, though. ✤ ✤ ✤