Dark eyes narrow at me with unconcealed intensity as I come to a halt before him, and I find myself hurriedly building a wall around it by thinking of as many memories as I can of my god.
There is no need to remind me of your worth, moraki mou.
You are and will always be irreplaceable.
What I'm saying is that you are a dirty little girl under your icy shell.
I will never let anyone hurt you again, little bird.
And it actually works!
I can already feel my heartbeat settling back to a normal rhythm, and by the time the professor speaks, I'm not even worried about sounding breathless or anything equally shameful.
"Thank you for coming," the professor murmurs. "I wasn't sure you'd bother to do so..."
Huh?
His words make no sense at all.
He's not only my professor, but his family also owns the whole damn school...while I'm the eighteen-year-old new student with a criminal record and a scholarship to maintain.
"There is no need to play the helpless innocent." His lips twist into a sardonic smile, and my confusion grows. "I received the memo like everyone else, kyría."
The mocking note in his tone is unmistakable, but I'm just too puzzled to even care. What is up with him? Why is he suddenly addressing me like I'm some rich madame, and what memo is he—-
"What are you doing?" I can't help gasping and instinctively taking a step back as soon as I see the professor start unbuttoning his shirt. "Are you—-" Insane, is what I'm about to say, but my voice abruptly dies the moment I see him push his shirt to the side and reveal the insignia shimmering a few centimeters below his right collarbone.
Holy. Greek. Shit.
The professor mutters an expletive under his breath. "Sit down, will you? You look like you're about to faint."
I do as asked because even I know I'm in shock.
How can this be possible?
Is this still the work of the Crones, or is someone divine playing a joke on me?
"Drink this." The professor hands me a bottle of water, and I don't hesitate to snatch it out of his hold. My fingers are shaking a little, and it has droplets of water dribbling down the side of my mouth as I quench my suddenly parched throat. It's embarrassing as Hades, obviously, but when I lower the bottle to wipe it off, it's then I see the professor gazing at my mouth in a way that we both know he's not supposed to...for more reasons than one.
"Here..." The professor is offering me another one of his silk handkerchiefs, but this time I shake my head in refusal and deliberately use the back of my hand to wipe the side of my mouth.
His lip curls. "Not good enough for you now, I take it?"
My indignant gaze flies up to him. "That's not the issue here, and you know it."
His jaw clenches, but he doesn't say a word as he shoves his handkerchief back in his pocket, and I strive to keep my face expressionless as I watch him perch a hip against his desk. I'm vertically disadvantaged as it is, but the difference is more intimidatingly obvious with him on his feet while I'm already struggling not to sink in the leather cushion of my chair.
"So..." The professor's tone is excruciatingly polite. "I believe congratulations are in order."
"Pun intended?" The words are out before I realize what I'm saying, and I can only cringe when I see the professor literally blinking. He's looking at me like he can't believe my sense of humor isn't a criminal offense, but before I can plead temporary insanity, he's already nodding and saying very, very gravely, "Yes. Pun intended, Ms. Mariposa."
I make a face, the professor smirks, and as the tension in the air noticeably eases, it almost has me believing it's possible for us to be...friends.
Almost.
But everything changes the moment I catch the glint of desire in the professor's dark gaze. I scramble to my feet, intending to leave before anything can happen—-
"Where do you think you're going?"
The professor's fingers curl around my wrist and forcibly spins me back to face him.
"Will you please let go of me?"
"Why should I?"
"My god doesn't like other men touching me—-"
"Your god, is it? Do you think of him as your possession?"
I get a feeling the professor wants me to lose control, but this only makes me even more determined to keep my emotions in check. "What is this really about, professor?" A part of me expects him to simply brush this off, but to my surprise, his answer shows that he's taken me seriously.
"I want to understand why you've chosen him over me."
It's enough to make my eyes widen, and I see the professor's lips twist at my reaction. "Why are you surprised? Did I not make it clear enough how much I want you?"