Ana's POV

There he is again, gliding through the door way as if he's walking on water. Damn he's gorgeous. Tall, dark and handsome doesn't cover it. His face is perfect, chiselled jaw line, glowing gray eyes, beautifully carved lips, I bet they'd be soft to touch. The fitted suit and unruly hair on top of his head that I'd love to run my fingers through, completes his look as he turns towards the class.

Everyone falls silent, terrified to make a sound. His eyes flicker to everyone in turn making them quiver. As they reach me I react no different, squirming in my seat. I try to hold his gaze and I see the familiar expression cross his features as he lingers on my face. I'm not sure what it is but I tell myself he looks at everyone the same way, but it's a lie. Every day he takes his time scanning my face before moving to his next victim. Why? I don't know, I mean I'm nothing special but I can't help the butterflies that flutter around like mad in my stomach. Of course I want to be different from everyone else around me, of course I want to mean something to him but there's no way that will ever be true. Not for someone like me.

It's not just the way he looks, it's the way he commands the class, completely at ease with himself all thirty eyes stay glued to him waiting to take in the next piece of wisdom coming from his mouth. He is definitely passionate about his job. Literature is something we have in common. We both love it, which is why he teaches it every day and why I took the class. Surprisingly he wasn't my motivation to take this class unlike all the other idiots sitting next to me. I took this class because I love everything written between the pages of a good book and I want to know everything. I think he notices my obvious dedication, maybe that's why he spends more time on me, showing his appreciation in some way. Well that's what I like to think, my other theory is he finds me attractive but every time that thought passes through my mind I can't help laughing at myself. Like I said I'm nothing special.

Right now he's talking about Tess of the d'Urbervilles, one of my favourites. It's so easy to get lost in his liquid smooth voice and I do frequently. Although when someone pisses him off it's a different story. Like right this second Jason, the guy sitting next to me, is quite clearly texting.

"Jason stop it", I whisper leaning over and nudging him with my elbow. He looks up, annoyed at my interruption.

"Why should I? I'm going crazy with boredom", he turns back without another word to continue what he was doing.

Just as I'm about to turn my attention back to the beautiful man at the front of the class I hear his voice, deep and clearly irritated.

"Miss Steele, is there something you'd like to share with the class?". Everyone turns their attention on me and I sit frozen in my seat. I stare back at Mr Grey who is now glaring at me, his grey eyes icy.

"N-no sorry, Sir", my voice clearly shows the fear coursing through my body but it's not all I feel. I try my best to hide the excitement as his eyes continue to stare into my soul, never blinking.

"Eyes front, Miss Steele, don't let your concentration slip again, understand?", I nod in agreement and watch as he turns back to the board continuing from where he left off. I feel my body shudder and I breathe I didn't know I'd been holding huffs out of me. Flicking my eyes over to Jason I see him smirking at me. God I want to slap his smug face.

An hour later the bell rings and I go to make a quick exit, but not before I take one more lingering look at the Greek God sitting behind his desk. Grey eyes meet mine and his eyebrows rise up in question. I feel the need to explain my blatant ogling but think better of it.

As I finally turn to towards the door I catch the corner of his mouth pulling up and the butterflies in my stomach multiply as I walk away.

...

As soon as I get home I'm greeted with same familiar sight as every other night. My mum is sprawled out over the sofa, asleep, empty alcohol bottle in her hand. Tonight its vodka, it varies from time to time.

I sigh, throwing my bag on the sofa opposite her and go to check her over. I'm worried one day I'll come home and she won't wake up, the thought terrifies me. She hasn't been the best mother ever since dad dies but she's still my mum and I love her.

Once I'm positive she's alive I retrieve my bag and make my way to my bedroom, throwing myself on the bed. What a great day I've had, I can't believe I got in trouble, I mean I'm no angel but I really wanted to be pretty much perfect in Mr Grey's presence. Now that's ruined.

My mind fills with images of him -like always- as I rest my head on the fluffy pillow. I can't help the grin that spreads across my face. I'll never have him but I can certainly dream. I wonder what his lips would feel like against mine, what his hands could do to me. He really has nice hands, and I love to watch him pick up a pen with those long fingers and slide the end into his mouth, chewing it as he concentrates on something important. I've never wanted to be a pen so much in my life. Oh god his hair, I have no greater urge than to touch it, slip my fingers through it over and over. It looks so silky.

With him in my head it never takes long for me to drift off to sleep where my fantasies continue in the dream world.

...

BZZZZZZ BZZZZZ BZZZZZZ

There is no way its morning already, I'm positive I just closed my eyes. Although as I wrench open my eyelids and glare over at my alarm clock it states 8.30 am. Class starts in an hour. That's plenty of time for me, considering I stay so close to my college.

Next year I hope to graduate top of the class, which shouldn't be too hard considering my competition, everyone is like Jason, uninterested. I'll be twenty-one then and plan to go into publishing. It makes sense really, with my love of books and the horror that fills me when I find an error, whether it be punctuation or grammar.

There are plenty of publishing houses here in Edinburgh so I'm hoping someone will take me on even if I have next to no experience, but who knows, people are strict. Which reminds me of Mr Grey, he is extremely strict. I love the way he looks when he's angry, his face becomes hard and his eyes blaze as he commands whoever is unlucky enough to face his wrath, to bend to his will.

Snapping out of my fantasies I take a shower and get dressed. I put on a short pleated skirt which is probably bordering on unprofessional but I don't care it makes my legs look good. Then I put on a nice fitted shirt which emphasizes my curves. I choose flat shoes so I don't look like a slut and a black leather jacket to cover my cleavage a little. I tell myself I make so much effort to feel good about myself but I know it has everything to do with Mr Grey. I want him to notice me but not as the inexperienced little girl that I am. I know I'm twenty so I'm technically and adult, but I'm a virgin and I know Mr Grey is at least six years older. The shoes and the jacket keep me professional and make me look like a woman, not a floozy. Although I contradict myself by wearing harlot red lacy underwear beneath it all.

I don't know why I bother it's not as if he cares, I'm just a plain boring normal girl or women I suppose.

...

I feel good as I walk out of my room to the kitchen to grab some breakfast. I haven't heard from my mum this morning so I go to check on her.

First I enter her bedroom but there's no sign of her, then I go to the front room and she is still there on the couch. I gasp worried; she usually wakes up long enough to get to bed. I've tried to get her help but she won't talk to anyone, not even me really. Sometimes I cry myself to sleep because we used to be so close, also because I lost my dad and I could lose my mum if she doesn't stop. It's getting worse.

Especially when she is sick at night, like she clearly has been. I notice her vomit on the floor and grimace. I can't leave her like this, it breaks my heart.

...

I make it to class half an hour late. Taking a deep breath I push open the door and wish the ground would swallow me up as everyone looks at me.

This includes the intimidating and angry eyes of Mr Grey, who I stare back at once again. I see his eyes glaze over as he takes me in but the look quickly disappears as he growls at me.

"See me after class"

...

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