Falling for the Professor

Chapter 005

Emma had a restless night.

Despite her body's exhaustion, her mind refused to cease. Each time she closed her eyes, the word "Her" appeared on the folder's tab, handwritten in ink. The handwriting was deliberate, simple, and in lowercase. Additionally, there was no explanation or panic in the way Julian's hand had closed the drawer. The drawer closed with a quiet finality.

She wished it had no meaning. It might have been old grades, artistic notes from a long-forgotten workshop, or drafts from a once-important student.

However, she didn't think so. She did not believe this to be the case.

The thing that frightened her the most was her level of concern.

Although not as early as previously, she was early for class once more. Already, half of the seats were occupied. She sat down in the same chair near the window, halfway down the table. She harboured a slight delusion of impartiality.

Leo was already there, sitting comfortably as if he owned the table. He leant close enough for her to smell the coffee and cologne when she sat down.

During office hours, you stayed longer than any of us, he said.

Emma avoided eye contact with him. "I had enquiries."

"Oh, you definitely did." He grinned. "I'll venture a guess. He left you thinking about your soul after giving you a quote and a look.

She continued to ignore him. "What makes you concerned?"

Leo smiled. "I don't. I simply like seeing favourites emerge.

The door opened before she could reply.

Julian came in, calm and relaxed as usual. She wore a sweater in a dark navy colour. Julian was dressed in black slacks. Under one arm was a leather folder. Without yet acknowledging anyone, he moved to the head of the table and put his materials down.

There was silence in the room.

He avoided eye contact with her.

---

"We're talking about interiority today," he stated.

He used deliberate, fluid strokes to write the word on the whiteboard.

> "The psychological space in which characters exist alone is known as interiority." Their ideas. Their quiet. their incorrect perceptions of reality.

He folded his arms once more as he faced them, but this time the motion had a tautness to it. As though the position were armour rather than comfort.

> "Authors either encourage or discourage empathy through the use of interiority. They reveal to us what a character desires but is unable to express. What they are afraid of but do not do

He slowly scanned the table with his eyes. Emma kept her notebook open and her face neutral.

> "Consider it the negative area surrounding an action. The reverberation of silence

He asked them to examine a tense moment between Two characters who don't speak much aloud were introduced as he opened the discussion with a passage from Virginia Woolf's To the Lighthouse. Initially, the room hesitated, but then students began to participate. Arguments were made, and pages rustled. Emma made an effort to concentrate on the text. and the girl's voice two seats down, who was analysing metaphors like a scalpel.

However, his presence was like a current to her. It's always there. Somehow conscious of her, but not looking at her.

Leo spoke with his typical arrogant assurance.

The scene is merely a mood piece." Nothing takes place. Pretending ambiguity is meaning is literary stalling.

At first, Julian did not respond. Then he spoke evenly:

> "The most accurate depiction of human interaction is frequently nothing happening. Valenti, people don't always say what they mean. They lie to themselves while they sit in silence. The point is that.

Emma's pen lingered over the page. Slowly, she raised hisr gaze. Something simmered beneath the words, but Julian's expression was unreadable.

Leo sat back, indifferent. It seems like emotional cowardice. Why not simply write what the character desires?

When Emma spoke, even she was taken aback.

> "Because actual people don't."

The space moved. People turned. For the first time that morning, Julian's eyes raised to meet hers.

Quietly but clearly, she went on. "People act. They self-censor. Since it's too dangerous, they steer clear f honesty. Particularly when they are concerned.

There was a long pause. Julian didn't stop it.

Emma's cheeks were hot as she looked down. She was burdened by the fact that everyone was once again observing her, but she also felt something else. An unfunny pause.

A waiting-like pause.

Julian was still staring at her when she looked up at last.

Then he smiled, briefly.

Not in a broad sense. Not in a friendly manner.

However, it was present.

a tiny, intimate mouth curve. hardly noticeable.

And for her alone.

The atmosphere changed.

There was no flirtation. It wasn't a joke. It was recognition. As if he had recognised something in her and chose not to conceal it.

Less than two seconds passed.

Then, as though nothing had happened, he returned his attention to the whiteboard and carried on with the conversation.

Emma's fingers trembled a little as she stared at her notebook and pretended to take notes.

Leo squinted across the table.

---

Students gradually dispersed after class, whispering to one another about their readings and assignments. Julian remained at the front, gathering his supplies. He moved with the dexterity of practice. Emma waited until the majority of the others had left.

He didn't look up when she eventually got up to go, but his voice stopped her at the door.

"Miss Grant."

Slowly, she turned. "Yes?"

Finally, Julian looked up. The grin had vanished. He had a neutral, but not icy, expression.

"Well done today," spoke plainly.

She gave a nod. "I'm grateful."

One more pause.

"Don'Don't let anyone shame you for speaking up early,' he continued. clearly," he continued.

Her chest grew constricted. This time, it was more of a relief than anxiety. or warmth. When you hadn't experienced either in a long time, it was difficult to distinguish between the two.

"I won't," she declared.

They held their gaze longer than was necessary.

Then she walked out into the sunlight after turning.

---

It was warmer outside than she had anticipated. She walked across the quad, letting her steps slow and awfulnking againIt wasthe brightness.

Now everything felt weird. Not too bad. Simply put, alive. It was as if something beneath her skin had moved and was unsure of how to stop.

---

Julian stayed in the empty room.

With one hand on the table's edge and the other, maintain quality. There was some nuance in her voice, not eager or theatrical. It was as

and to smile.

That is not what he did. Not with students, in particular.

But she had a certain quality. There was something genuine in her voice, not eager or theatrical. As if she didn't want to be heard. She was unable to resist.

He was aware of the power of that voice. To other people. to oneself.

and the possible expenses.

He slowly erased the board after staring at the blank spot where her name had been on the attendance list.