Chapter 6 — Bemused.
1182 Words
Henry shook his head, exhaling heavily.
“How long are we going to play this game?” he asked.
“Game?” I echoed.
“Yes, Rosie.”
“I wasn't playing any games,” I murmured, glancing at the floor.
“Then why wouldn't you hand me the books?”
“It's…”
He exhaled heavily, scratching his head.
“Christ, Rosie, just hand me the damn books, will you?”
Stupid…. Stupid…. Stupid.
Why'd you wear this flimsy s**t?
Oh God… what was I even thinking?
“Can I quickly go back in and…”
He raised a brow in amusement.
Then reached toward me, snatching the books in one swift movement.
My heart hammered as his gaze flickered briefly to my chest—so quick I almost thought I imagined it, before he pulled away.
He sat back down, then turned to the book, his expression neutral.
Too fast.
Like nothing had happened.
Like I'd imagined his playful teasing just now.
“Which would you like to start with?” He asked.
The heat faded just as fast, leaving me cold and a little stupid.
Fucking stupid, Rosie.
What the hell were you even thinking?
That he would actually want you.
He was probably just joking with you earlier, Rosie.
Like a professor would to his student or… like a father would to his daughter.
Disgust crawled slowly… then settled deep in my belly.
For Christ's sake, this man belongs to your mother.
And before that, he belonged in your fantasy and your fantasy alone.
And even with all that thought in mind… I still wanted him.
“I guess… math.” I replied quietly.
I kept my gaze on my lap, even when I could feel his eyes on me.
Then his gaze fell away as he flipped open the pages of the book carefully.
“Hmm…” he mused, rubbing his chin softly. “Your results from five months back look way better than the recent ones. Why's that?”
He paused for a second.
Just long enough for me to notice… but not enough for me to dwell on.
“Umm… I'm not quite sure…” I drawled.
He rolled his eyes. “Your current teacher is ‘Miss Holmes,’ right?”
“Yes sir.”
“And the last one was ‘Mr Rogers,’ I believe.”
“Yes…”
Where exactly was this going?
“I see…” he murmured, scratching his stubble softly
My gaze fell to his lips as it pressed into a thin line.
I dragged my eyes away quickly, forcing myself back to the book in my hand.
Focus, Rosie.
To think the man I'd only ever imagined was right here… and still completely out of reach.
Was this some sick joke?
“—and I think, Rosie?”
What did I ever do to deserve this?
Was this karma?
For that time when I took a hundred dollars from grandma's purse just to get my primary school crush a gift… and then blamed it on my cousin Vinny.
Or maybe for letting things go too far in my head.
“Rosie…”
God—that was so bad, but I was only a kid then and besides… he ended up giving it to some girl in my class.
“Ouch…”
Henry stared at me with a bemused expression.
“What was that for?” I whined, rubbing the sore spot.
He let out a quiet breath before speaking again.
“What the hell were you thinking about? I called you twice.”
I scratched my neck sheepishly, blushing slightly. “I'm sorry, professor Henry—”
“It's Henry to you, I'm not your professor anymore. Rosie.”
“Yes Henry.”
He shook his head slightly.
“You've gotten worse since I last taught you… what the hell have you been doing all this while?”
Dreaming about f*****g you in a hundred different—
He flicked my forehead again.
“Christ…” I groaned, rubbing the spot again.
He scoffed softly. “I can see why.”
His tone was light…
But something about it made my heart race with a different feeling.
I turned my gaze away, pouting slightly.
“You have a short attention span. I knew it was bad then… but it's gotten worse.”
You don't say…
“Anyway… we'll work on the subjects that require your utmost attention first, so… we'll start with maths.”
*****
I glared at the paper in front of me, then glared more at the answers I couldn't seem to come up with no matter how hard I tried.
My gaze drifted to Henry, as he adjusted his glasses, squinting at the book in front of him.
I bit my lip, trailing my eyes over his exposed arms.
He hummed thoughtfully, twirling the pan between his fingers.
Fuck…
What would it feel like to have those fingers buried deep inside—
“Are you done yet, Rosie?”
I turned my eyes away sharply.
“Uhh… not really.”
“I thought you were, since you were staring at me,” he said,
I nearly choked, a blush rising to my face.
“I-I… I wasn't…” I trailed off.
He stood up, walking towards me.
“Let me see what you've been doing,” he said, hands reaching for my paper.
I shot up. “I'm not done yet.”
He paused, blinking in surprise.
“I just want to see what you've been doing, Rosie.” He groaned, stepping closer.
I moved backwards, clutching the paper to my chest. “I will…”
He squinted at me suspiciously.
“Give me the paper, Rosie.”
I shook my head.
Do not give him the paper, Rosie. If you do, he's going to know just how dumb you are.
He stared at me, long and hard…
Then—
He rushed forward.
I did too.
And before I knew it, we were running around the living room.
The cushion screeched as his weight pressed against it.
“Dammit, Rosie. Just let me see what you've been doing,” Henry said from the end of the couch, annoyance dripping off him.
“Just give me a few more minutes, Henry,” I replied from the other end.
“You've been at it for hours already,” he groaned.
“I know… I just need a few more minutes, and I'll be done.”
He glared at me, chest heaving steadily.
Then—he exhaled deeply.
“Fine… you have thirty more minutes. I'm going to use the bathroom.”
With that, he began walking away.
Or… so I thought.
I wasn't able to react in time.
The moment I moved—
Thick fingers wrapped around my waist from behind, turning me around… then slamming my back against the wall.
My gaze landed on a pair of dark blue eyes, grinning at me triumphantly.
I froze.
For a second, he looked pleased with himself.
Then his smile faltered—
As if he suddenly realized how close we were.
- Writer
