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MidReal Story
The Professor's Obsession
Scenario:我发现我的男朋友背叛了我，理由是我在床上没有满足他。为了报复，我在他面前吻了一个陌生人。那个吻在我脑海中萦绕了一整周，就像成瘾。我没想到会再次看到那个陌生人，但不幸的是，他现在是我的新教授。
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Elara Thompson
a curious and determined young woman who recently moved to the mysterious town of Willow Creek to uncover the secrets behind her late grandmother's enigmatic past, she possesses a knack for solving puzzles and a fearless attitude, developing a close bond with her childhood friend Jacob who helps her in her quest, she has long auburn hair and bright green eyes, characterized by her analytical mind and courageous spirit.
"You know what your problem is? You are not satisfying me in bed. You are not a good girlfriend," Jason yelled at me.
I stood there, watching him kiss my best friend, thinking that this was his way of getting rid of me because he didn't want to tell me the truth.
"You kissed him," Jason said, pointing at the man who was standing in front of me.
I looked over at the man and smiled mischievously.
As soon as I heard what my boyfriend had said, I kissed the stranger who was standing in front of me.
It wasn't preplanned; it just happened in the spur of the moment.
I wanted to show him that I wasn't bad in bed.
That kiss lingered in my mind for an entire week.
It had become an addiction, and even though I didn't know who that stranger was, I found myself dreaming about him every night.
I would find myself going back to the bar every night just to catch a glimpse of him.
I never thought that I would see him again, but alas, he is my professor.
His name is Ethan Blackwood, and he has a daughter who is nine years old.
He is also a single father.
Class ended, and the students were filing out.
I stayed behind, my heart pounding against my ribs.
Professor Blackwood was organizing his papers on his desk.
He seemed to be engrossed in his work.
I walked over to him slowly, clutching my textbook in front of me like a shield.
The classroom seemed smaller now that it was just the two of us.
When I reached his desk, he looked up.
His expression was unreadable.
My throat tightened as I forced myself to speak.
"Do you remember me?"
I asked him.
Ethan paused, his eyes searching mine before he spoke.
"Yes, I remember," he said softly, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
"But what I can't forget is how that kiss felt like a promise neither of us was ready to make."
I lingered by his desk, unable to tear my gaze away from his.
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows through the classroom windows, stretching across the floor like outstretched fingers.
The air was heavy with the weight of unspoken words, and I could feel the tension between us crackling like a live wire.
The silence stretched out, becoming more loaded with each passing moment.
My fingers traced the edge of his wooden desk, remembering the electric touch of his skin against mine.
He took a step closer, maintaining a professional distance but close enough that I could catch the subtle scent of his cologne.
It was a masculine smell, earthy and rich, and it sent a shiver down my spine.
Just as I thought he was going to say something, Sarah, one of my classmates, appeared beside me.
She had walked up behind me so quietly that I hadn't even noticed her approaching.
"Professor Blackwood," she said softly, leaning in close to my ear.
"Ethan's been asking about you. I think he wants to talk."
I turned to Sarah, my eyes wide with surprise.
"Really?" I whispered, feeling a mix of anticipation and dread.
Ethan met my gaze, his voice steady as he replied, "Yes, there's something important we need to discuss."
I nodded, lingering by his desk as he gathered his things.
The classroom seemed to shrink around us, the emptiness echoing with the weight of our unspoken words.
My hands trembled slightly as I pulled out my latest essay, the red marks on the pages like a badge of inadequacy.
"About my grade," I started, my voice steadier than I felt.
"I was thinking we could discuss an arrangement."
His hands stilled for a moment, and I could sense his attention shifting fully onto me.
I laid the paper on his desk, sliding it toward him with deliberate slowness.
"I can keep quiet about what happened at the bar," I continued, meeting his gaze head-on.
"If you'd consider adjusting this."
His eyes darkened, and he whispered, "Let's not mix business with pleasure."
I was about to respond, but before I could form the words, a shrill fire alarm pierced through the air.
The sound was like a knife to my eardrums, making me flinch.
Thick gray smoke seeped under the classroom door, filling the room with an acrid smell.
Professor Blackwood's gaze snapped to the door, his eyes widening as he took in the situation.
Without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me away from his desk.
The smoke grew denser by the second, making it difficult to breathe.
I coughed, stumbling slightly as we moved toward the emergency exit.
Through the haze, I noticed that Professor Blackwood's grip on my arm hadn't loosened.