Sorry Professor, You Said You Are WHAT?

Chapter 6.

KATHLEEN'S P.O.V.

I was two seconds away from banging my head on my desk, literally. Professor Dawson had subtly tried to include me in the class conversation even when I had tried to make myself as invisible as possible. On any other day I wouldn't have minded, but he seemed unusually cold today.

"Miss Ramirez, do I bore you?" I blinked into reality as I heard him call out to me. Taking a glance around, I noticed practically everyone was looking at me. I swallowed thickly in embarrassment, wracked with nerves.

"What? Uh, no. Did you say something?"

"Actually yes I did; if you'd paid more attention, you'd have heard me." I bit my cheek, trying to suppress my irritation. What's up with him?

"Anyways, as I was saying..." He carried on while I once again drowned him out. Lexi leaned close to me with folded arms and whispered, "What crawled up his ass and died?" My thoughts exactly.

"Hell if I knew; it feels like he's purposely picking on me." I watched as his gaze flickered over to me, his jaw clenching, and I could've sworn that his eye color changed. I shivered under his intense gaze.

"Well, whatever it is, you'd best steer clear of his path." I remained shut in fear of him calling me out once more, but I silently agreed with her. For the rest of the class, I tried to seem as though I was focused while all I wanted to do was escape this torture room; he unnerved me in ways I didn't think possible even without saying a word.

Thankfully, the class came to an end as I rushed off, joining the first set of people to leave the class. I let out a sigh of relief when I didn't hear him call me, only to be momentarily startled when someone else did.

"Girl, are you good? I mean, you just rushed off in a hurry like you were on fire or something." Lexi said, as she appeared next to me.

"Yeah, sorry. I just didn't want to spend another minute in there."

"Of course, I'd want to leave if I were you. I wonder what got him so uptight though, did you do something to offend him?" I thought hard on her question, racking my brain for anything which I had done to upset him but I came up with nothing.

"No, not that I can think of. I mean it's probably nothing, maybe he's having a bad day or something." I shrugged.

She hummed, her brows lifting while her lips upturned, "Yeah, maybe."

Lexi and I part ways as I head home, having nothing else to do for the rest of the day. Getting home, I relish in the peace and quiet. There were days I appreciated not having a roommate, today was one of those days. Dropping my bag and meal which I had picked up on my way back on my head, I shrug out of my clothes and head into the bathroom to take a much needed shower. Humming quietly to myself as the water cascaded down my skin, my mind drifted off as I thought of him. For some reason, his behavior towards me irked me more than usual and I hated it. I shouldn't care what he did, but I did. I shouldn't feel the way I did, but I did. He was starting to have this...effect on me which I hated. I barely knew him and he was my professor for crying out loud. Perhaps I had let our little interactions get to me much more than it should have, he probably already forgot about his proposal.

Forcing away the thoughts, I stepped out of the shower, drying myself while I listened to 'The Machine' by Reed Wonder and Aurora Olivas. Dressed in an old oversized shirt, I watched a movie on Netflix while I ate. Halfway through the movie, I heard my phone ding, signaling an incoming notification.

It was an email from Professor Dawson. Surprised and eager, I opened it, and it read:

Dear Kathleen, I'm sure you must be upset with me given how I behaved today, and for that I'd like to truly apologize. It was uncalled for and rude of me. If you're still willing, I'd love to take you out on that date I had told you about.

Kind regards.

Xavier Dawson.

P.s—There are darknesses in life, and there are lights; you are one of the lights, the light of all lights.—Bram Stoker.

My cheeks strained from how hard I was smiling. He had a way with words, a smooth gentleman. Whatever doubts I had about him were swept away, and for the rest of the rest, the smile didn't leave my face.

Soon enough, it was the weekend, and my 'date' with Professor Xavier had arrived. Gosh, I sounded so stupid; it wasn't a date…but he had said it was. Anyways, he had sent instructions on how I should dress and where I would meet him. Upon reaching the place, I realized he had been right. It was indeed a private space, not very known to outsiders. And besides, there was barely anyone aside from the guard at the entrance. I would soon come to know that it was an art gallery. My jaw dropped in amazement as I took in the beautifully painted designs, each a reflection of its own meaning. Stopping before a painting, I couldn't help but be mesmerized by the intricate painting and how much detail the artist had emphasized.

It was a picture of a man, drowning in water but seemed to be captivated by a glowing light. It was indescribable.

"Beautiful isn't it?" A deep voice interrupted my thought, startling me as I jumped in fright while turning around sharply.

"Professor Dawson, hi, I didn't notice you there. How long have you been standing there for?" I asked, placing a hand over my chest.

"Just got here."

"Oh,"

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting, I apologize if I did." He said smoothly, I almost swooned. My eyes raked over him, even in his formal attire he seemed so relaxed. Although he looked different from when he was back in the classroom. He had on dark grey pants, a cream halter neck sweater and a long black coat. He looked dashing.

"Miss Ramirez?"

My eyes snapped back up to his as I shook my head to clear the thoughts. "Huh, what? No, of course not. I just got here myself."

"Great, I see the painting caught your eye." I was thankful he had changed the topic.

"Yeah, it seems very...personal."

"Yeah, what do you see?" I focused on the painting, trying to decipher how best to explain it.

"It's about a man who's lost. But then he's seen the light?" Squinting, I looked up at him to find him already looking at me.

"Pretty close. Actually, I painted it." Why wasn't I surprised? "And the man in the picture is me." Now I was surprised.