"It’s an easy A this weekend, everyone. Remember to read five of William Shakespeare’s tragedies this weekend! Thank you! And have a great Valentine’s Day everybody. Class dismissed!!" (Name) snatched up her books, flying out of her chair and into the gaggle of her classmates. Her lips were stretched into a straight line, bright, sparkling (E/C) eyes oddly dull.
Her mind was a million light years away, focused only on getting away from her college, Mr. Arthur Kirkland, she had so mistakenly fallen for. She replayed his voice inside her head; his beautiful English accent, pronouncing every word so clearly that the fog of confusion lifted in AP English.
But those eyes, oh those emerald eyes. She could look into them all day. She practically fainted whenever he looked her way. They pierced her heart and soul, consuming every day of her life. Well, every day of her four year college life. She couldn't tell him that she was hopelessly in love with him. But she thought about it all the time. How he might, perhaps, whisper those words breathlessly in her ear or maybe, through a Shakespearean quote written in beautiful cursive (His cursive was quite exquisite).
He always wore either a midnight blue or evergreen suit that fit him so well, it left almost nothing to (Name)'s imagination. Mr. Kirkland was definitely in shape, with that thin, but toned body. Despite his thick, black eyebrows that detracted from the attractive face, his blonde, shaggy hair that drifted across his forehead so beautifully, (Name) wanted to just reach out and run her hands through it-
"Ms.(L/N). I'd like to have a word with you, dear." She froze, rigidly turning around. Mr. Kirkland had his eyes locked on hers, and a small whimper escaped her lips. Her best friend shot her a look of pity, then skittered out of the room with the rest of the students, leaving (Name) alone with the handsome professor.
"D-Do you need anything, Mr. Kirkland, sir?" He rose from his desk, flashing a small grin.
"(Name), I know you like me." (Name) turned bright red.
"O-Of course I like you! You're m-my prof-f-fessor," she fibbed, hiding behind her icy blonde, waist length hair. "How c-could I n-not? You p-practically taught me e-everything there is to k-know about b-being an author." He walked up to her, taking her hands gently.
"You don't have to lie," he murmured, running his thumbs over her knuckles, bringing them to his lips and kissing them. "I can see it in your eyes, love." Her heart skipped a beat.
"H-How do you-"
"Call it intuition," he whispered. He brought her closer to him, winding his arms around her waist. She suddenly gasped, remembering something.
"L-Last week… Was it you…”
"Yes. I sent you a rose. Just one, I'm thinking. Dark red, too." (Name) almost melted at the feeling of his breath on her skin. "Do you know what it means, love?"
"The dark r-red means u-unconscious beauty and t-the single r-rose means u-utmost dev-v-votion," she said, staring at the floor. But something caught her eye. It was- No, it can't be!
It was a bouquet of red rose roses sitting on his desk. Her eyes scanned the bunch counting each one. Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven. Her eyes widened, her hand flying up to cover her mouth in utter disbelief. Her eyes began to water as she looked from the flowers to her professor. I'm his treasured one? I'm the one he loves most in his life?
"Please, call me Arthur."
"A-Arthur, d-do you really m-mean it?" He chuckled, grazing her forehead with his lips.
"Ah, so you figured it out then?" Tears slid down her cheeks.
"I love you," she murmured, “I just didn’t know how to say it.” Arthur held her close, stroking her hair lovingly.
"I will always be here for you, love, no matter what," he murmured, tipping her chin up and placing a careful kiss on her quivering lips. “I love you…” Her tears slowly disappeared as he broke from her, kissing the tears from her cheeks.
"Thank you, Arthur..." He contently sighed but moved away from her to grab the bouquet of flowers.
"You are my only love, (Name). And you always will be. Now, hurry along before your classmates get suspicious." He set the bouquet of flowers in her arms, kissed both cheeks, and then her forehead. "Happy Valentine’s day, love. May this be the first of many happy days, for us, to come." She practically glowed.
"Yeah. The first of many."