CHAPTER ONE:

Another dull day at the university went by; the sweltering June weather warmed the air only bringing discomfort in your small room. The pathetic fan rattled away, producing more noise than cool air. You lay in your bed draped in a thin bed sheet, your duvet hanging on the floor and your pillow smothering your face. Throwing the pillow aside, you sit up letting out a moan of frustration. Why am I spending my first day of freedom from exams still at University!Annoyed with your bad luck you reward yourself extra time to lie in a bit longer and despair. Eventually you drag yourself out of bed, put on your dressing gown and stare outside the window. It was only 7:45am; the sun had not yet reached its peak so the weather wasn't scorching, yet, just stuffy. Still in a daze you stroll into the bathroom and relax in the shower. The warm water seeps into your skin and instantly you feel better. Reluctantly you get out of the shower, fearing you could be late to the lecture. Wrapping a towel around your body and towel on your head, you step out back into the tip you call a room. Boxes lay scattered around the room- some empty some full, a half filled suitcase with clothes sprawling out of it is hidden under your desk and that's only the beginning.

Immediately you are drawn to your window by shrills of laughter. The post-exam celebrations have begun, unfortunately for you; your first week living la vida loca is going to be spent at University. You glare at the students who are ecstatically parading through the campus with their luggage. Friends kiss and hug each other goodbye, some in tears and others shriek with joy. Everyone ought to have left yesterday but no-one was going to miss the annual post-exam celebration hosted by Elle. Gorgeous, blonde, athletic and academic- Elle was the perfect student. She is daughter to very wealthy parents and renowned for her lavish, no expense spared parties. Although, she is normally first judged as the stereotypical rich bitch, Elle enjoyed the company of all types of people. All cliques were invited to Elle's parties and she socialised with everyone. Not wanting to miss out on the drunken fun, you attended for the first three hours but left swiftly at midnight. After all, going to a mathematic lecture unwillingly was one thing, but to attend unwillingly, tired and extremely hung-over was another. The party of course was a blast: the dancing, the drinks, the food and the atmosphere were most welcoming, but you thank yourself for not getting too drunk. Refreshed, you pull on your jeans and blow-dry your hair. Satisfied with its damp state you place your hair in an up-do, throw on your relatively low-cut and baggy shirt and delicately apply a meagre amount of makeup. Shit! It's already 8:35am?Rushing, you put on your wedges, gather the lecture-prep work alongside with your pencil case from your desk, dump it into your satchel and run towards the lecture hall. Thankfully your dorm is the closest to the school's main site.

A hubbub of loud gossiping and laughter radiates from the lecture hall, indicating the lecturer hadn't arrived yet. With a sigh of relief, you enter the scarce room. For such noise, you're astonished by the lack of people; then again you doubt many people were stupid enough to waste their first week exam free at Uni. Why the hell did I sign up for these lectures, lectures on maths, what could I possibly gain from this?Of course, the extra credit: The extra credit that would look brilliant on your CV, but even that could not justify the undesirable timing. With a sense of foreboding, you walk ¾ of the way into the lecture hall and perch yourself onto the edge of the row of seats. Most people were still turning up, probably hung-over from last night judging by the way they squinted in the sunlight. You pull out your prep-work: a 300 paged text book on the history of Pythagoras' Theorem dating back to its early founders known as the Babylonians and the completed algebra questions that had been set. You scan the room for a familiar but friendly face. Everyone here was acquainted with each other, the community was tight-knit but individual cliques still remained. The first few front rows filled up quickly with those who were keen, the slackers slouched in the back rows and the middle rows were reserved for those who couldn't give a shit. Five people braved themselves onto your row: A couple of bitching girls who sit at the furthest end, an average built blonde guy who cleverly reads a hidden comic book inside his textbook, a chubby brunette who in one hand holds her pencil case and the other a large bag of sweets and lastly a lean handsome guy who much to your surprise seems normal. In fact he was more than handsome, you can't help but stare. He sits majestically, unpacking the necessaries from his bag. His green eyes are gorgeous and his features are sharp. His soft hair hadn't been combed which made him look more appealing. You thank the heavens he is the one sitting the closest to you. Well at least you now had some eye-candy to get you by.

"Hi, my name's Jasper, I don't believe we've meet." He smirks: A handsome smile to match a handsome guy. You introduce yourself and return the smile. It was now 8:49am, so you open your pencil case to prepare for the class. Somehow you manage to drop your ruler which falls with a loud clatter. Simultaneously, you both reach to pick it up, causing you to bang into each other. Holding onto your head you sit up right. Jasper automatically infectiously laughs; you cannot help but join in. He places a hand on your knee and says:

"Here let me get it," With that, he ducks down briefly before appearing with your ruler, wearing a broad smirk. You stare quizzically as to what could be so amusing.

"You a Harry potter fan?" He jests; you take back the green emerald ruler that has the Syltherin's crest hologram on it.

"Yes, I'm a die-hard fan, got a problem?" You mischievously say. He raises his hands in surrender making you giggle.

"What would you do if I was tell you I haven't even watched the films, let alone read the books?" He says, you cannot tell if he's joking.

"You are teasing me right?" You say trying to be deadly serious, but cannot suppress a smile. He simply raises an eyebrow and shrugs his shoulders.

"Well, in that case, I say we would have to rectify the situation." You continue trying to sound seductive, but your genetics simply will not allow you to be sexy at all.

He opens his mouth to reply but your flirtation is cut short as the lecturer finally strides in at exactly 9am on the dot. He's not particularly tall, but definitely above average height. His suit fits his broad shoulder perfectly, the fine, expensive material hugs his body and his pants are of perfect cut. His shoes are gorgeous and well polished- clearly a man who can dress himself. His attire certainly attracts eyes, as girls gush and giggle with his presence. His large eyes glisten, a deep coffee colour and his eyebrows help frame his face. Not that his frame needs to be enhanced, his nose elongates his face in a flattering way and underneath is a smallish mouth surrounded by stubble. His cheekbones are angular but not as angular as his jaw line. Even his hair is perfectly gelled back, not so much that it looked greasy, but it complements him- much like everything else he did. You scan his left hand and see no ring, which for some odd reason makes you happy. He places his briefcase by the edge of his desk and takes off his blazer. He is wearing a white open-neck shirt, which (like all his clothes) perfectly fit him- revealing his muscles. Walking in front his desk, he leans against it and clears his throat- immediately silencing the class.

"Hello class, I hope most of you are not too hung over from last night's drinking extravaganza." He half smiles, making you fluster, "I am Professor Jim Moriarty and as you all can probably gather, I am here to ruin your post-exam fun."

He automatically wins over the class, as they laugh respectfully at his remark and wit. With ease, he takes control of the class, gaining their trust with just his personality. His accent is unworldly, it's obviously from an Irish background but it's also a fine concoction of something else. Whatever it is: his voice soothed and played on words- most definitely the sexiest accent. A late-comer arrives, she rushes to the nearest available seat, apologetically looking at Professor Moriarty.

"First for some ground rules: I expect punctuality. Class starts at 9am sharp and as this is your first lesson with me, I will not punish anyone for being late," he says staring at the late-comer, who now blushes profusely. "For me to provide an enjoyable lesson, I expect you all to keep your end of the bargain. That means pay attention and do the work and as a result, I will try my best." He pauses to sip his coffee. "I hope we can have a good week together and that you will find this class more tasteful than this cup of coffee." He washes down the after-taste of the coffee with water, his facial expression illustrating how revolting it was and bins the cup. And by doing so, makes the class laugh once again. Yes the school coffee was certainly a no-go.

The class seemed to be going fine: We listened, made notes, laughed and learned. The first hour passed like a breeze. However the presence of Jasper constantly kept you on edge, you could feel him stare at you and smile at you. He gently tapped your hand, smirking the way he did and complemented your handwriting in a low gushy whisper. You burn up and blush with excitement, only able to respond by smiling and hastily get back to your equation. The class is quietly working, solving the problems. Professor M remains seated at his desk, his arms behind his head as he observes the class. You glance up once, catching his eyes. Almost feeling guilty for looking up, you quickly resume your work and do not dare to look up again.

*BEEP*

Your phone vibrates on the desk, loudly alerting you have a new text. Fuck.The whole class turn in sync to face your row. Before you can begin to blush the shade of ultimate embarrassment, Jasper holds your phone and stands up.

"Sorry, Sir, I completely forgot to turn my phone off." He says smoothly. You remain inert, how do you react to this? You touch Jasper's leg, but he shakes you off; a warning to not fess up. Taking the hint, you sit quietly in your guilt.

"Well, seeing as you are so honest about it; you can collect your phone after class." Professor Moriarty says equally smoothly completely credulous to the situation. He walks towards your row whilst continuing:

"Let this be a warning: No more phones." He collects the phone as hands go fumbling into bags to turn off phones.

Professor M leans over your desk reaching for the phone. He smels divine; a hint of cologne follows after him, refreshing the air. After he had returned to his desk, you turn to Jasper and whisper your gratitude. Politely he smiles and mouths "It's okay."

The lesson passed on undisturbed and finally the bell chimed at 12pm indicating the class was over. Everyone rushed from their seats, talking to their friends, planning their lunch break. You linger, slowly packing your bag and then wait outside the classroom's door. Jasper and Professor M only briefly spoke, as Jasper emerges from the room only a few minutes after you.

"You are too kind, good sir." You jest, smiling helplessly at the way he tousles his hair. He was busy beeping away at your phone. Impulsively, you rush towards him and try to snatch it back.

"Hey, what are you doing?" You exclaim, as he uses his height as an advantage: One hand holding your phone high in the air, the other holding you back. Laughing, you jump trying to reach the phone. Suddenly he gives in and hands it back- satisfied by your desperation.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it." He simply replies, chuckling. Smiling the way he does, wooing you.

"Thank you so much for taking the blame, although you really didn't have to do it! But thank you, I am indebted to you." You stutter appreciatively.

"Don't sweat it, but since you feel so indebted, I have an idea or two on how you can repay me." He says, leaning closer towards you, his voice growing darker.

"And how can I do that?" You playfully reply. With a week stuck at school, you were going to make it a fun one.

"I'll pick you up at 5." He smiles and begins to walk away.

"Wait! What if I say no?" You tease, although it was fairly clear you wanted this.

"You owe me!" He replies instinctively in a mocking shocked tone.

"Fine, but you have no idea where I live and I have no idea how to get in contact with you." You stare baffled by his so-called plan. "But then again I'm guessing you've already put your number in my phone?"

"Call me," And with that, he's off, walking away from you. This stranger called Jasper, for whom you have fallen for.