Title: Fantasy Formula 1: Part 1
Author: Kenora Hazel Saul
Rating: PG (for now) goes up in the next chapters
Pairing: T/N
Disclaimer: I don't own the Matrix, or anything affiliated with it.
A/N: These characters and this story are based loosely on the movie. They are humans living in the Matrix. Trinity is named Nicolya Ryan, and Neo is Thomas A. Anderson. This is a story of dark passion, as a student can't control her desires for her professor. They can but hope to find a mutual love!
~*~~*~*~*~*
Nicolya Ryan walked into the dark paneled room that was her advanced computer class, anxious to get started on this class, as it was her favorite subject. She seemed only to be one with herself, when she was sitting at her computer, surfing the net, or doing various other activities.
Thomas A. Anderson strolled down the hallway, glancing at his cheap knockoff watch, noting he was a couple minutes late. Lifting a pale hand to smooth back a lock of errant ebony hair that threatened to disband his mask of blissful ignorance.
Swinging around the corner, he walked into his classroom.
Nicolya looked up as she heard someone enter the room, hoping that it was the late professor, only to raise her eyebrows in cynical disbelief. This guy was too young, only a few years older than her. Plus he didn't look the nerdy professor type. Add about fifteen years, thirty pounds, a receding hairline, glasses and you had a distinguished authoritarian on the subject.
"Sorry I'm late," Thomas looked at the class. His gaze lit upon a woman sitting in the back row. Glaring at him with her almond-shaped cerulean eyes, then dismissing him without another look, she buried her head back in the text.
Students piled out the door, eager to scurry off the next venture in their lives.
"Miss Ryan, a word if you don't mind." Thomas removed his reading glasses. "Is it that you find my class so irrevocably boring? Or am I just that dull, that you can bear to look at me?"
Nicolya swallowed. How to explain this feeling that she'd had the moment he'd walked through the door. To ignore him and to want him all in the same second. A simultaneous combustion of desire and scorn. To be jealous of a man who was so young and had achieved so much, and to want a man who had a modern day Renaissance essence, that screamed at her to take him and make him hers.
"I can't explain it, I just got over a really bad break-up and I'm still upset about it," Nicolya pushed past him out the door. Black heels clicked on the cheap linoleum, as she scurried from the classroom.
With Nicolya's image emblazoned on his mind, Thomas shut the classroom door and strolled down the hallway.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author: Kenora Hazel Saul
Rating: PG (for now) goes up in the next chapters
Pairing: T/N
Disclaimer: I don't own the Matrix, or anything affiliated with it.
A/N: These characters and this story are based loosely on the movie. They are humans living in the Matrix. Trinity is named Nicolya Ryan, and Neo is Thomas A. Anderson. This is a story of dark passion, as a student can't control her desires for her professor. They can but hope to find a mutual love!
~*~~*~*~*~*
Nicolya Ryan walked into the dark paneled room that was her advanced computer class, anxious to get started on this class, as it was her favorite subject. She seemed only to be one with herself, when she was sitting at her computer, surfing the net, or doing various other activities.
Thomas A. Anderson strolled down the hallway, glancing at his cheap knockoff watch, noting he was a couple minutes late. Lifting a pale hand to smooth back a lock of errant ebony hair that threatened to disband his mask of blissful ignorance.
Swinging around the corner, he walked into his classroom.
Nicolya looked up as she heard someone enter the room, hoping that it was the late professor, only to raise her eyebrows in cynical disbelief. This guy was too young, only a few years older than her. Plus he didn't look the nerdy professor type. Add about fifteen years, thirty pounds, a receding hairline, glasses and you had a distinguished authoritarian on the subject.
"Sorry I'm late," Thomas looked at the class. His gaze lit upon a woman sitting in the back row. Glaring at him with her almond-shaped cerulean eyes, then dismissing him without another look, she buried her head back in the text.
Students piled out the door, eager to scurry off the next venture in their lives.
"Miss Ryan, a word if you don't mind." Thomas removed his reading glasses. "Is it that you find my class so irrevocably boring? Or am I just that dull, that you can bear to look at me?"
Nicolya swallowed. How to explain this feeling that she'd had the moment he'd walked through the door. To ignore him and to want him all in the same second. A simultaneous combustion of desire and scorn. To be jealous of a man who was so young and had achieved so much, and to want a man who had a modern day Renaissance essence, that screamed at her to take him and make him hers.
"I can't explain it, I just got over a really bad break-up and I'm still upset about it," Nicolya pushed past him out the door. Black heels clicked on the cheap linoleum, as she scurried from the classroom.
With Nicolya's image emblazoned on his mind, Thomas shut the classroom door and strolled down the hallway.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*