Darcy ran to the door, arms and hands full with loose papers, textbooks, and a cup of much needed coffee, all while trying to keep the strangely heavy purse on her shoulder from sliding onto her forearm. Literally the last thing she needed was to drop something, and with how today had been going, that'd be just her luck.
"Hold the door, please!" She yelled above the textbooks, praying that by some miracle the man in front of her heard her.
This time, he did.
"After you." He flashed his gorgeous, million dollar smile as she brushed by him, trying very hard not to drop a thing.
Normally, she'd blush, look away, and then glance back at him considering she saw him frequently around campus, and they'd become friendly strangers. Sometimes he'd smile at her, other times he'd just smirk, but he'd normally just give enough of a glance to leave her wondering about him for the rest of the day.
And any other day, this casanova would have her week in the knees, but not today. No, today was about getting this goddamned paper that she'd been slaving over all week in on time. Today she'd be victorious. Today she'd prove her jackass of a professor wrong, and kick this class's ass. Today…she'd find out that the professor went home early.
Son of a fucking bitch. You've gotta be kidding me!
Not today. Not today of all goddamn days. Just not today.
Darcy stood in silence for a moment as she just stared at the irritatingly perfect handwriting of the professor. She'd never seen handwriting that could possess such fine elegance and high class arrogance before until she signed up for Advanced Psych. And then, she sat down in her seat on the first day and took note of the name that had been written in what almost looked like calligraphy from the 50 something year old man standing with his hands behind his back, watching every new student file into the classroom, studying them, and most likely trying to figure out which one would crack under the pressure first.
Ah yes. The professor from hell. Of course this would happen to her.
Thankfully, she'd experienced this one too many times with a similar professor within the first semester to be shaken. So, Darcy (somewhat) carefully set down her books, pulled a brown manila folder from her bag, stuffed the paper inside along with an explanation of what this was, and marked on the front of the folder the time and date.
She promptly slid the folder underneath his door until it was out of sight, picked up her books, and headed for home.
Darcy was happy to finally have finished that god-awful assignment. She'd spent the last three and a half weeks taking this intensive winter session course, and to finally be rid of such a burden was like a gift from the heavens.
She had made it out to her car when she realized she'd forgotten to pick up her coffee off the floor. After quickly throwing her bag and books into the back seat, she locked up her tan 1998 Toyota Camry and ran as fast as she could inside, desperately avoiding other students.
After a few close calls, and a few sorrys here and there, she just barely made it back to see that her coffee had been left next to the office door, looking completely untouched.
Darcy sighed in relief as she double checked to make sure nothing was wrong with it, and then proceeded to take in the white chocolate pepperminty goodness. Maybe this day was going to be victorious after all.
She turned around to head back down the hallway and to car. But then, it happened.
She'd apparently turned around too soon because before her stood a six foot two grad student with jet black hair and the greenest eyes she'd ever seen glaring at her so hard she'd thought maybe he was trying to kill her with his mind. She'd spilled her latte onto him as well as herself, and all he could do was look from his shirt to her face over and over again, his face reddening with each look, and his eyes becoming wild and filled to the brim with fury.
Darcy had no idea what was about to happen next, but she knew it couldn't be good.