My Professor Is the Devil

Chapter 16: Aurora

I didn’t go to university for two days.

I told my grandparents I wasn’t feeling well.

That part wasn’t entirely a lie.

Because every time I closed my eyes, I saw Professor Michael’s face after he pushed me.

The horror in his expression.

The panic.

The way his voice sounded when he said my name afterward.

Like he hated himself for touching me too hard.

And somehow—

That hurt more than the actual push itself.

I should’ve been angry.

Normal people would’ve been angry.

Instead, I couldn’t stop thinking about the look in his eyes when I stepped away from him.

The first day passed slowly.

Rain tapped softly against my bedroom window while I stayed buried beneath blankets pretending to study.

Pretending not to think.

Pretending not to miss him.

My grandmother knocked softly around noon.

“You should eat something, sweetheart.”

“I’m not hungry.”

A pause.

Then quietly—

“You’ve been staring out that window all morning.”

My chest tightened slightly.

Had I?

After she left, I sat up slowly and looked outside again.

Snow still covered parts of the yard, melting beneath weak winter sunlight. The street remained mostly empty, peaceful in the quiet way small towns always are.

Normal.

Everything looked normal.

Then I saw him.

My breath caught instantly.

Professor Michael stood across the street beneath the bare trees, dark coat blending into the gray afternoon.

Watching my window.

My pulse stumbled violently.

For one frozen second, neither of us moved.

Then—

A car passed between us.

And when I looked again—

He was gone.

I stared outside another full minute.

Nothing.

No one.

A shaky breath left me slowly.

Okay.

Maybe I imagined it.

That had to be it.

Because there was absolutely no way Professor Michael Knight was standing outside my house watching me like some kind of—

No.

I was exhausted.

Emotional.

That was all.

Still—

I closed the curtains afterward anyway.

The second day felt worse.

Not better.

I woke up tired despite barely sleeping.

Every room in the house suddenly felt too quiet.

Too empty.

By evening, snow had started falling again.

Soft flakes drifted past the windows while darkness swallowed the streets outside.

My grandparents had already gone to bed, leaving the house silent except for the ticking clock downstairs.

I sat curled up on the living room couch with a blanket wrapped tightly around me, trying to focus on the anatomy textbook open in my lap.

It wasn’t working.

Because every few minutes—

I felt watched.

The feeling crawled slowly beneath my skin.

Not fear.

Awareness.

I looked toward the hallway instinctively.

And froze.

Professor Michael stood near the kitchen doorway.

My heart nearly stopped.

Dark clothes. Hands in his coat pockets. Watching me silently.

Exactly like he did in class whenever he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

“Professor—”

I blinked.

And suddenly—

The doorway was empty.

I stared at it in confusion.

Nothing there.

No one.

Okay.

Definitely hallucinating now.

I rubbed both hands over my face tiredly.

This was getting ridiculous.

The wind outside howled softly against the windows.

The old house creaked quietly around me.

And suddenly, every shadow looked wrong.

I glanced toward the staircase.

For one horrifying second—

I thought I saw him again standing near the bottom step.

Tall.

Still.

Watching.

Then lightning flashed outside.

And the figure disappeared completely.

A nervous laugh escaped me.

“What is wrong with me…”

I shut my textbook harder than necessary and stood quickly.

I needed sleep.

Clearly.

By the time I reached my bedroom upstairs, exhaustion sat heavily behind my eyes.

I locked the door out of habit before changing into one of my oversized sweaters and climbing into bed.

Cold sheets greeted me immediately.

I turned onto my side, pulling the blanket higher.

And despite everything—

Despite the confusion and hurt and fear—

My thoughts still drifted toward him.

Professor Michael.

I remember the nights he drove me home from the library.

The quiet conversations inside his car.

The way his voice softened whenever he said my name.

Then the memory shifted.

His arms around me in the penthouse.

The warmth of his body.

The way he kissed me like he was trying not to lose control.

My chest tightened painfully.

“Stop thinking about him,” I whispered into the darkness.

But even now—

Part of me still missed him.

And that terrified me most of all.

Sometime later, exhaustion finally dragged me toward sleep.

Half-awake. Half-dreaming.

The storm outside fading into distant noise.

And then—

Warmth.

My breathing slowed instinctively.

Because suddenly—

It felt like someone was beside me.

Strong arms wrapped slowly around my waist from behind.

Careful.

Protective.

My sleepy mind immediately recognized the feeling.

Professor Michael.

His warmth surrounded me completely.

Solid chest against my back. Slow breathing near my neck.

Real.

Too real.

A soft breath escaped my lips unconsciously as I relaxed into the touch.

Because somehow—

Despite everything—

His arms still felt safe.

I felt fingers brush lightly against my hair.

Gentle.

Almost hesitant.

Then a deep voice murmured softly near my ear.

“Aurora…”

My heart fluttered weakly, even half-asleep.

The scent surrounding me felt painfully familiar, too.

Dark cologne. Winter air. Professor Michael.

I wanted to turn around.

To see him.

But sleep pulled heavier suddenly, dragging me deeper beneath the warmth wrapped around me.

And just before unconsciousness fully claimed me—

I felt lips brush softly against my temple.

So light I almost imagined it.

Then quietly—

Almost painfully—

“I’m sorry.”

Darkness swallowed everything afterward.

Morning arrived slowly through pale sunlight spilling across my bedroom walls.

I blinked awake lazily.

Alone.

The room was empty.

The door was still locked.

No sign anyone had been there at all.

But my body still felt warm.

Like someone had held me all night.