Chapter 25: Fantasy
He saw the frustration on his students' faces. It wasn't Arthur's style to give an easy quiz. Schadenfreude: taking pleasure in other people's misery. It was his favorite word. Midst the creased foreheads and furrowed brows, he saw her deep pensive chocolate brown eyes. She was staring at the ceiling, and he thought she was probably looking for answer or saying a prayer. He was amused by her defiance. And when she opened her mouth, he was always surprised by what she said. Her words intrigued him and he wanted to know what was running through her mind. Ariadne was her name: the beautiful creature that captured his interest.
Unbeknownst to her, he was looking at her for most of the period. He put on his most aloof and indifferent expression, but his eyes betrayed him: he was scrutinizing her features and the meaning they held. She always licked and smacked her lips. He was entranced by them. Unconsciously he rubbed his lips with his index finger and imagined himself touching her lips. He shook his head and tried to rid himself of lewd thoughts.
She stood up and walked towards his desk. She quickly placed her paper on his desk and left. He stared at her back and made his way to her legs. Black tights gave her legs a sophisticated look. She possessed a confident grace and at the same time she wasn't ashamed to flaunt her awkwardness. Ultimately, he thought of her as the quintessence of beauty and intelligence; even though she had only been his student for a month and he hadn't known her quite well.
Arthur knew there were lines he shouldn't cross. Lines he imagined he would never dare to cross. But in this case, he was confronted with a line of temptation that was too hard to resist. He was a teacher and she was a student. As a philosophy teacher he was bounded by reason and morality. But for the past month he has wallowed in his desires which were against his own principles. After checking quiz papers, after his daily commute, after eating dinner, his thoughts reverted to her image.
Her wavy chestnut hair.
Her chocolate brown eyes.
Her cute button nose.
Her heart-shaped lips.
And then his desire.
He sat on the edge of his bed and realized that he was obsessed with her. Or maybe he was just obsessed with his idea of her. All he knew was that he had a conflict within himself, a struggle which he knew must be won by his own self-preservation. She was just any other woman, but a woman that was a paradox whose intricacies perplexed him.
He turned off his bedside lamp. He closed his eyes and drifted into darkness.