Chapter four : Behind closed door
791 Words
Nafisa stood outside Professor Adrian Hale’s office, her heart beating far too fast for something as simple as asking a question.
Except it wasn’t simple.
Nothing about this situation was simple.
She shifted her weight slightly, clutching her notebook to her chest as another student stood inside, speaking with him.
Through the slightly open door, she could hear his voice—calm, steady, professional.
As if nothing had happened.
As if last night didn’t exist.
Her chest tightened.
Of course, it didn’t.
At least, that was what he wanted.
The student inside finally stepped out, offering her a polite nod before walking away.
Now it was just her.
Nafisa stared at the open door for a moment longer.
You can leave.
No one is forcing you to go in.
But her feet didn’t move.
Instead, she lifted her hand and knocked lightly.
“Come in.”
Her breath caught slightly at the sound of his voice.
She stepped inside.
⸻
Adrian didn’t look up immediately.
He kept his eyes on the papers in front of him, as if giving himself a few extra seconds to compose himself.
But the moment the door closed, he knew.
It was her.
“Nafisa,” he said calmly, finally lifting his gaze.
Her name felt different in the quiet space of his office.
Too personal.
Too familiar.
Nafisa stood a few steps away from his desk, her posture slightly tense.
“Professor,” she replied.
The distance between those two words—his use of her name, her use of his title—said everything.
Adrian leaned back in his chair slightly, studying her.
“What can I help you with?”
Professional.
Strictly professional.
Nafisa nodded quickly, opening her notebook as if she had rehearsed this moment.
“I had a question about the assignment you gave,” she said, her voice steady despite the tension in the room.
Adrian gestured lightly.
“Go ahead.”
She began explaining her question, pointing at something in her notes.
Adrian listened, but his focus wasn’t entirely on the assignment.
It was on her.
The way she avoided looking at him directly.
The slight tremor in her fingers.
The effort she was putting into pretending this was normal.
It wasn’t.
And they both knew it.
When she finished, Adrian gave a brief explanation, his tone controlled and clear.
Nafisa nodded, though she had to force herself to concentrate on his words.
Because standing this close to him felt different.
Too different.
The memory of the night before lingered uncomfortably between them.
“Thank you,” she said quickly, closing her notebook.
She turned slightly, ready to leave.
“Wait.”
The word slipped out before Adrian could stop himself.
Nafisa paused.
Slowly, she turned back to face him.
“Yes, Professor?”
There it was again.
That distance.
Adrian exhaled quietly.
“We need to be clear about something.”
Her grip tightened slightly on her notebook.
“I thought we already were.”
His jaw tightened.
“This is not a situation that can be misunderstood,” he continued. “You are my student.”
“And you’re my professor,” she finished softly.
Silence filled the room.
Adrian held her gaze.
“What happened that night cannot happen again.”
The words were firm.
Final.
Nafisa nodded once.
“I know.”
But this time, her voice carried something else.
Not just agreement.
Something closer to disappointment.
Adrian noticed.
And it unsettled him more than it should.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The air between them felt heavier now, filled with everything they weren’t saying.
Then Nafisa broke the silence.
“Don’t worry, Professor,” she said, her tone quieter now. “I’m not trying to make things complicated for you.”
The words hit harder than he expected.
Before Adrian could respond, she turned and walked toward the door.
Her hand rested on the handle for a brief second before she paused.
Without looking back, she added softly—
“But pretending it meant nothing doesn’t make it easier.”
And then she left.
⸻
The office felt unusually quiet after she was gone.
Adrian remained still, his gaze fixed on the door.
Her words echoed in his mind.
Pretending it meant nothing doesn’t make it easier.
He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair.
This was exactly what he had been trying to avoid.
Complication.
Emotion.
The loss of control.
And yet, despite everything he had just said—
Despite the rules, the consequences, the clear line he had drawn—
One truth remained.
Seeing Nafisa Carter again had changed something.
And no matter how much he tried to deny it…
He wasn’t as unaffected as he wanted to be.
- Writer
