The Twilight Twenty-Five
thetwilight25 dot com
Prompt: #1, Ancient
Main Character: Edward
Rating:M
Word Count:470
I watched her as she entered the classroom with two friends, giggling and throwing her long, glossy hair over one shoulder. Pale, almost translucent skin, big, brown eyes, and perfect bow lips; she was the picture of youthful beauty, and she made me feel used up and ancient.
Well, that was probably the least inappropriate thing she made me feel. At 38, I knew my stomach shouldn't flip when she walked into the room, and I shouldn't have trouble getting up from behind my desk when she approached, smiling, to ask a question or drop off a paper.
Regardless of what I knew to be right, I couldn't help the way Bella Swan affected me. Of course, there was no way I could act on it. I'd seen a colleague foolishly risk his career for a brief fling with a student. It had ended horribly, with the girl in therapy and him losing his job, possibly his entire career. No, I was smarter than that. I couldn't help the way she affected me, but I could help how I handled it.
Or so I told myself. Every time I caught her eye, she smiled at me, and I was usually the one to break eye contact. I kept my distance, was strictly professional, made sure to never be alone with her...until now.
She'd come back 20 minutes after school had ended, surprising me as I graded papers at my desk. Standing in the doorway, those lovely pink lips curled in a smile, she apologized and asked if I would look over an essay she'd written for a college application. I'd hesitated, my desire for her warring with my better judgment. She'd held my gaze, coming to sit on the corner of my desk, and set the papers in front of me with a simple, straightforward, "Please?"
I couldn't deny her, and now here I sat, the object of my lust not two feet away and not another soul around. She'd closed the door behind her when she came in, and it occurred to me that I should probably get up and open it...when I could get up.
"Professor Cullen?" Her sweet, clear voice cut short my musings. Looking up I saw that she was leaning toward me so that her button-down shirt gaped open, giving me a perfect view of her luscious cleavage. Had it been that open quite that much during class?
As I tried to collect myself, she smiled, crossing one slim leg over the other. I cleared my throat, not trusting myself to speak at that moment. She held my gaze, her smile never wavering.
I raked my fingers through my hair and took a deep breath. I am so screwed.