Chapter 5: Aurora
942 Words
Avoid him.
That became my plan.
Simple. Logical. Necessary.
Avoid his eyes.
Avoid his voice.
Avoid thinking about the way my stomach tightened every time he looked at me.
It should’ve been easy.
Except it wasn’t.
Because Professor Michael Knight seemed to exist everywhere.
By the third day, I started changing my routine.
I left class early.
Took different hallways.
Spent lunch hidden in the far corner of the library where nobody usually sat.
Not that anyone would notice.
People at university knew me, technically. They knew I was smart. Quiet. The girl who skipped parties.
But nobody really knew me.
And I preferred it that way.
No friends.
No attachments.
No complications.
It was safer.
I sat alone at a small table near the back of the library, anatomy notes spread in front of me. Rain tapped softly against the tall windows, turning the afternoon gray and cold.
Good.
Gray felt easier.
Predictable.
I underlined a sentence in my textbook for the third time without reading it.
Because my mind kept drifting.
To him.
To the way he looked at me in class earlier.
Calm. Patient.
Like he already knew I was trying to avoid him.
My grip tightened on the pen.
This was ridiculous.
He was a professor.
An arrogant, infuriating professor who kissed a stranger in a club and somehow acted like it meant nothing.
So why did it feel like everything changed after that night?
“You’re avoiding me.”
The voice came from directly across the table.
Low.
Smooth.
Dangerous.
My heart nearly stopped.
I looked up too fast.
And there he was.
Professor Knight.
Standing in front of my table with one hand in his pocket, dark coat still damp from the rain outside.
My stomach dropped.
How—
I didn’t even hear him walk over.
“I’m studying,” I said quickly.
Weak.
God, that sounded weak.
His gaze drifted over the open textbooks in front of me.
“Clearly.”
Then his eyes returned to mine.
Steady.
Intent.
“Yet you haven’t turned the page in seven minutes.”
Heat rushed into my face.
“You were watching me?”
“I notice things.”
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look back down at my notes.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
A mistake the second I said it.
Because when I looked up again—
He smiled.
Slowly.
“And where exactly should I be?” he asked softly.
There was amusement in his voice now.
Like he enjoyed this.
Enjoyed making me nervous.
“You know what I mean.”
“Do I?”
He stepped closer.
Not enough to alarm anyone around us.
Just enough for me to notice.
Just enough for my pulse to start racing again.
“This is inappropriate,” I whispered.
His expression barely changed.
But something darker flickered in his eyes.
“Inappropriate,” he repeated quietly. “Interesting word.”
“It’s true.”
“And yet,” he murmured, “you’re still talking to me.”
I hated how my breath caught at that.
Hated how calm he looked while my entire body felt too aware of him.
“You came here on purpose,” I said.
Not a question.
“Yes.”
The honesty of it startled me.
No hesitation. No excuse.
Just yes.
“Why?”
His gaze held mine for a long moment.
Too long.
The air between us felt heavy suddenly.
Dangerous.
“Because,” he said quietly, “you’ve spent three days pretending you don’t want me near you.”
My chest tightened.
“I don’t.”
Another lie.
And he knew it.
He leaned down slightly, one hand resting against the edge of the table beside me.
Not touching me.
Somehow worse.
“Aurora,” he said softly.
The way he said my name—
God.
“You stop breathing every time I get close.”
I froze.
Heat flooded my face instantly.
“I do not.”
“You do.”
His voice lowered further.
“And your heartbeat changes too.”
My pulse stumbled violently at that.
How could he possibly—
No.
Impossible.
“You’re imagining things,” I whispered.
But my voice sounded breathless.
Unsteady.
His eyes dropped briefly to my lips.
Just for a second.
But I noticed.
Of course, I noticed.
“That’s the problem,” he said quietly. “I rarely imagine things.”
Silence stretched between us.
Tense.
Sharp.
I could hear the rain outside. The faint turning of pages somewhere deeper in the library.
But all of it felt distant compared to him standing this close.
“You should go,” I whispered.
This time, it sounded less convincing.
“Probably.”
But he didn’t move.
My chest rose too quickly.
Why does he affect me like this?
Then, finally, he straightened.
The sudden loss of his closeness should’ve relieved me.
Instead, something inside me tightened.
His gaze stayed on mine for another second before he spoke again.
“You know,” he said calmly, “for someone trying very hard to avoid me…”
He tilted his head slightly.
“…you never actually leave.”
And before I could answer—
He turned and walked away.
Just like that.
Leaving me breathless.
Again.
I stared after him long after he disappeared between the shelves.
My textbook sat open in front of me.
Unread.
Forgotten.
Because all I could hear was his voice.
All I could feel was him standing too close.
Looking at me like he already knew something I didn’t.
And the worst part?
A small, dangerous part of me—
Wanted him to come back.
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