Hot Night With My Professor

I burst into the room again as quickly as I could while simultaneously attempting to retrieve the memories that had slipped me. But no matter what I try, I just can’t recall anything at all.

I went back to the bed in which I had been sleeping. I caught a whiff of it. Trying to track out any evidence of a male because he isn’t there, even though in most movies, a girl will wake up with a gentleman by her side after spending the night. What really happened? Did something really happen? It’s annoying that I had a one-night stand with a man whose face I didn’t even see, and then he left me in the air.

I facepalmed, but I still tried my best to think. I looked at the bed again. Besides the scent of alcohol, there is also a pungent and recognizable smell of perfume present.

The rate of my breathing increased. I have no idea what triggered this rapid change in my feelings towards the guy who was helpful to me the night before. Perhaps it’s because I’m curious about what went down or whether anything significant occurred between the two of us yesterday night.

What will happen to me if I get pregnant? Did he use protection? I won’t even know the father if there is something left in my womb. Wait, Jothea! What are you thinking?

Is this a sign that I am panicking? Shit. I need to calm down.

But it was only after I made the conscious decision to keep calm that I recalled something important.

I was holding a tie when I suddenly lost my balance and fell to the ground at the bar. After that, someone lifted me and brought me here, and as I continued recalling what had just happened, my eyes became wider. When he was laying me on this bed, I loosened his necktie and kissed him on the lips. What the heck did I do?

Did I really do that? Have I just fucked and kissed a total stranger? I blinked my eyes numerous times while I was holding my head. I mean, did something happen?

I closed my eyes. This is cheating! The feeling of guilt is killing me now! What will Professor Sybill say if he finds out? Will he still accept me?NôvelDrama.Org content rights.

I was ready to get out of bed when I noticed that the bed was damp. W-why is this wet? Don’t dare tell me! Did I take a shower before going to bed the other night? No, I always dry my hair using a blow dryer. But what if I wasn’t able to because I was under the influence of alcohol?

I tried to remember everything while holding and pulling my hair in disgust while concentrating hard. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I can not remember! Did something really happen? It’s annoying.

I checked out of my stay. I tried to ask the receptionist who had rented the room for me, but she would not reveal their identity because the information is considered to be private. She simply mentioned that a wealthy patron who stayed there frequently had paid for it. I have my eyes currently closed. What should I do now? I need to meet the man who helped me to know if something really happened, because this guilty feeling won’t let me sleep if there is. What excuses will I make to Professor Sybill when he comes back to me?

I cleared my throat. I decided to take a cab to school rather than walk. I still should go to class. A moment ago, as I was in the lobby, I checked the time and saw that it was already past seven in the morning. I think it would be fine if I just attended the next subject, right? Or just bug into the class, just like I always do.

I haven’t eaten yet, so I’m quite hungry and feeling dizzy. The last time I ate was yesterday at lunch, so my stomach is now growling. As I reached to pat my stomach, I became cognizant of the garments that I was presently donning. Earlier, before heading downstairs, I decided to take a quick shower, and I was a little taken aback when a room attendant knocked to deliver my freshly washed uniforms. I had just gotten out of the shower at that time. I was really surprised. The man who helped me last night was very gentlemanly enough to even think about getting my clothes drywashed. I can’t believe that a man would be that kind. And there was something in me that wanted to know him.

But on the other hand, I can’t help but think that maybe Professor Sybill saved me last night. Maybe I just didn’t get a chance to see him because he didn’t want to show himself to me. Hell! I do not know anymore! I’m reaping again.

“We’re here, ma’am,” the driver said. I glanced outside the window and saw Marcus University. We are here.

I went down after paying, and I immediately touched my head when I felt a bit dizzy. This merely serves as further evidence that I consumed an excessive amount of alcohol last night, as my hangover remains intense. It’s like splitting my head. I just hope the professor currently in our class won’t scold me. Wait, what day is it today, and what is our first subject?

I closed my eyes when I realized that today is Wednesday, and I guess I am that lucky, knowing that Ismael Mondalla is our professor. My neck felt like it hurt right away, but it didn’t matter; I could argue with him anyway. Who is he to be afraid of?

The only sounds I could hear were the clicks of my high heels as I walked down the hallway at a leisurely pace. It looks like everything around me is shifting.

When I entered the room, I was anticipating that Mondalla would yell at me, but he didn’t, which left me perplexed. Even the students who were in my class seemed to be waiting for that, but they did not receive anything. So I just let it go and didn’t waste any more time sitting down. I looked at Ismael. What did he eat, and he didn’t scold the hell out of me?

I noticed the looks of my classmates, particularly Savannah, who appeared to be confused as well. She never stopped whispering to the person next to her. Tsk. She thought that gossiping about me made her look good. She’s not even prettier than my nails!

“So, foundation day is drawing near. Each section is responsible for putting together something similar to what you did at this time last year. The good news is that if you reached the most profitable booth, I would cheerfully exempt your section from the final examinations,” Mondalla stated to the joy of my classmates. “But the bad news is that if your booth doesn’t do well, some of you won’t graduate.”

Tsk. He just really wants to bring me down. But that won’t happen because the section I’m in is hostile. Even if I don’t help, I know we will win the most profitable booth this year. Our classroom president won’t lay back to lose. She always claims perfection and the top. So I don’t have to worry.

I let out a sigh of relief, and for a split second, I felt the weight of my eyelids. I didn’t realize I was taking a nap.

“Professor, I have missed you so much.” I began to rip his necktie off and kiss him as I told him. I was in tears as I reached for his warm and red lips, which I hadn’t enjoyed in a very long time. “Why did you have to leave me without a warning?” I inquired about it once again when I finally left his lips. Now that he is here and has come back, I can finally tell him how sad and miserable I am.

“You already know how much I love you, and you also know that I just can’t imagine my life without you. I have neither friends nor family; you are the only person I have. Don’t ever go away from me again, please. Just stay here with me. The professor who took your place did nothing but torture and humiliate me every day. That substitute professor was terribly unkind to me. I really need you to stay here, Professor… I can’t function without you, Sybill.”

“He is not who I am.”