Wicked sweetness

Detention

I was walking alongside Mr. Young as we made our way to class. I sighed deeply as I stole a few glances here and there because, as much as I disliked him, he always managed to impress me with how neatly he dressed and how handsome he looked in that black suit that complemented his form perfectly. It was a dead silent walk to the classroom, but my breath gave away that I was apprehensive, or maybe I was uncomfortable because he looked at me, assuming I wouldn't notice. Perhaps it was something I secretly craved. His walking beside me and studying me more closely fueled my desire to get to know him and learn more about him. But it all came to an end when he opened the door to the class, and I remembered why I was there. Panic gripped me, and I felt my legs buckle. I didn't want to be seen with him when we entered the classroom since there were a lot of females that fancied him because he was young and successful, but I didn't have a choice, did I? Either I go first and rush to my seat, or I freeze, and I opted to gather my courage and run into the classroom. Of course, I hear the girls chattering away, but I choose not to listen or at least make an effort not to, for my own mental health.

I sat down and placed my belongings on the floor, then looked up to find a happy Mr. Young writing on the whiteboard. I open my notepad and closely observe how the marker hits the board, and how he moves it, and I simply watch him as if he were a movie that I didn't want to end. It's interesting and mysterious, like a detective movie, and it feels like it's only getting started.

It went like this for 2 full hours, and before I knew it, the bell rang and all the students gathered their stuff. I remained silent and watched Mr. Young collect papers and organize files. I was deep in thought, but the professor jolted me awake by vigorously tucking my shoulders.

"Miss, get up! Is it because I'm boring that you fell asleep? "

"Oh, apologies, I'll take my leave," I murmured, partly afraid and half longing for his attention.

"Olivia, not today. You're going to detention. " "In my office now!" he smirked as he returned to his desk. He yelled at me, yet it was in a playful tone.

"But, sir, I have a TV program to prepare for."

"Don't worry, you'll have time; now let's go, Olivia."

I once again walked beside him. Who would have guessed that I would stay with him twice in a matter of hours? The bizarre thing I can't explain is that I feel drunk in his company as if he has cast a spell on me or poisoned me. I certainly didn't feel this way about him a few days ago, but things have changed. I'm debating if I should leave him or stay with him longer.

He pops out of nowhere and asks, "Are you OK?" in his honey-like voice. "You seem to be zooming out a lot these days."

"I'm good, I'm always like this. Don't worry."

"If you say so, but I am certain of one thing: you are not always like this."

I just want to scream that he's making me uneasy, that he's making me feel uncomfortable, that I just want to go back to my books like I used to, but I can't seem to concentrate with him there.

We arrive to his office, which I now seem to know blindfolded. He opens the door and welcomes me inside. It was my first detention, and I knew even then that detentions did not take place in the professor's office, but I didn't think much of it.

"Please sit down and make yourself at home."

I pulled the chair and sat down, expecting him to do the same.

"Miss Archer, you are a really outstanding young lady. I'm sure you and I would have been good friends, if not more if it hadn't been for the status difference. "

I was taken aback by him, and for a split second, he paused, and just as he was about to say what he wanted, I cut him off by asking what he meant.

"The other females, you know, don't really stand out, but you do, and you captured my attention, and now I've captured yours as well. This, I believe, is the cause of your sluggishness, particularly in my class."

I wish I could tell him what's on my mind, but I can't. "You have some dark secrets, Mr. Young. I'm quite sure. The way you portray yourself and the way you look at me tells me that you are hiding something and that I will find it, and maybe then I will regain my focus, but rest certain that I will not stop until I find out."

"Haha, Oscar for you, my love, and regarding everything else, I think you're imagining things and you really should see a doctor. Oh, and if I may say so, it appears that you like me; I also loved how you described me; you are a strange lady as well. "

"I believe you are the one seeing things. I am completely fine. " Then he glanced at me with a curious expression, as if he was trying to read my mind, so I blushed slightly and moved my gaze to the artwork on the wall.

"The paintings are lovely, but why are there two people on an island, and why are they sad? Shouldn't they be glad they found each other? "

"You see, they were intended to be joyous, but the painter was unwell and obviously unhappy, which is why they are like that. As for the painting concept, I used to have a girlfriend who always wanted to acquire a painting of two people in love because she desired something she didn't think she had, but boy, was she wrong. I loved her, yet she deceived me, but the artwork is still mine, " he murmured. I could sense he was wounded, and I was relieved that he expressed his emotions and provided some information about himself.

"I'm sad to hear that."

"I'm sure you are. Now let's go on to something else. What do you suggest? We still have 30 minutes. I don't want them to go to waste."