Written for the college AU/Coffee series. Set directly after chapter 25, "Coffee, 5"

Rating: T

Genres: AU, Comedy


"Oh, Professor~!"

Normally Fakir's default reaction to these two words is an eye roll and a less than enthusiastic, "What do you want," but this is not a time to settle on auto pilot, not if he values his life. Because Fakir knows that voice, he knows it well, and buried beneath the sweet, melodic canter of Rue's call is a violent promise that does not bode well for his lifespan. So instead of turning around and facing his doom, he slams his laptop shut, grabs his bag, and hastily runs the hell away.

But damn it if Rue isn't fast—she catches him by the arm just as he's about to clear the threshold of the English building. Her smile is pleasant, friendly even, but her grip on his elbow is almost painful.

"There you are! For a moment I thought you didn't hear me," Rue says happily. Her expression remains chipper, but her voice takes on a distinct note of aggression when she continues, "I've been looking for you."

Fakir swallows, and the vice-grip on his arm tightens uncomfortably when he responds flatly, "I'm very busy. If you'd like to meet with me, then schedule an appointment." He tries to break her hold, but she nearly digs her nails into his arm at his attempt.

"Oh, it'll only take a few minutes, I promise." She says, and the look in her eye promises that no matter how short their interaction will be, she will make it a painful one.

"Are you hard of hearing? I said I'm busy." Fakir snaps, yanking his arm free.

Rue is clever though, more than she has any right to be. Her face falls in mock hurt, and as soon as he spots the tears welling in her eyes he knows he's trapped.

"B-But Professor Lohen, I really need your help!" She cries loudly. Rue buries her face in her hands, shoulders heaving with fake sobs. "Please!"

People are beginning to look as Rue continues making a scene, and Fakir is ready to brain himself on the brick facade of the building to spare himself from this quickly-spiraling mess. Rue gives a particularly loud sob, and he snaps.

"Fine, just come to my office." He can feel the eyes follow him as he opens the door for her. He glares the bystanders down until they scatter.

"Oh, thank you!" She cries in mock-relief, dabbing at her tears with the corner of her sleeve. They lock eyes as she passes him and her wordless message is clear: I win.


They walk in relative silence through the hallways of the English department. Rue as pleasant as ever, smiling and waving at acquaintances while Fakir trudges along behind her, as enthusiastic as a man on his way to his own execution. Which, knowing the woman ahead of him, is probably not an inaccurate assumption. He feels the beginnings of a migraine prickling behind his eyes.

When they're finally in the privacy of his office, Rue goes for the kill. She wheels around on her heel, eyes wide and furious as she jabs her thin, manicured finger into his chest.

"Are you masochistic, or just moronic?" She demands. "I told you to stay away from Ahiru. Or do you not remember?"

Fakir glowers down at her, pushing her hand away from his chest. "It's kind of hard to forget. After all, it's not every day that I'm threatened with exsanguination via syrup tap."

"Keep it up, Fakir, and it'll be a PVC pipe," Rue warns.

He scowls, sidestepping around her to walk towards his desk. "I'm shaking," He deadpans.

Rue glares at him. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, Lohen," She hisses, "But so help me if you so much as look in Ahiru's direction—"

"Relax, Kraehe. I won't."

For a moment, Rue looks taken aback by his abrupt surrender, but her suspicion returns. She squints at him, snarling. "You won't what? Stay away from her?"

"Quite the opposite," Fakir says cooly, pulling out his seat. He falls heavily into his chair, watching Rue with wary eyes. The migraine throbs in his temples. "I'll have you know that I fully intend to stay as far away from Ahiru as possible."

Wordlessly she pulls out her phone, fingers flying across the screen until an electronic rendering of his voice loudly proclaims to the room, 'So, yes. I'll admit it. I like Ahiru. I like Ahiru a lot. You know, I might even love her at this point. Who the hell even knows?'

Fakir is unsure if it's the migraine that threatens to split his skull in half or the simple penetrating force of Rue's glare. He should really take something for his head. Or kick Rue out of his office. Or just throw himself from the roof. Whichever.

"Well you seem to be doing a rather poor job of it," Rue sneers, locking her phone. "Walking with her around campus, eating lunch with her, texting each other at all hours of the night—where do you even get away with that? And now this? She's your student, you pig!"

Fakir rubs his eyes. "I'm well aware of that, thank you." Boy, is he ever aware of that.

"Quite obviously you're not, or you'd have stopped this little—whatever this is between you two—a long time ago."

Fakir opens his mouth to retort, but quite honestly he doesn't have one. Rue's right: if he were truly serious about separating himself from Ahiru, he would have done so already. But instead he finds himself in the rather precarious situation of doing the exact opposite. In fact, over the past year the two have grown oddly close, and Fakir would be a liar if he said he didn't enjoy it.

"I know," He admits with defeat.

"Then why don't you?" Rue says through furious, clenched teeth. "Do you even realize the harm this could do her? To be caught having an affair with a teacher—"

"Do you think I don't know that?" Fakir shouts. His head is pounding, dizzy with images of a redheaded, freckled girl who has him so tightly wrapped around her finger that it's actually a little disconcerting. "She could be kicked out. She's only got a year left until she graduates and getting involved with me could jeopardize that."

"Congratulations," Rue deadpans, clapping. "You're not a total idiot after all."

Fakir glares at her, but says nothing. What is there to say? That she's right? That he's a pig who can't handle a simple crush on some silly girl with too-bright eyes? That he tries to remind himself every day that he walks a dangerous line between agony and bliss, between losing everything he's ever worked towards and gaining everything he's never known he wanted? That every day his own arguments become as sturdy as a pile of dry sand?

To be honest, it's been a while since he's been able to convince himself that pursuing her was a bad idea. Mytho is right. Age isn't an issue, not really: she's 21 and he's just on the cusp of 25, barely a 4 year difference between them. And after countless hours of tutoring sessions and lunch meetings that he refuses to call dates for the sake of his sanity, he's realized that they have much more in common than originally thought. As it turns out they can talk for hours together: about literature and school work and classical music (a favorite of both, shockingly.) She's charming and funny and genuine and sweet, and at this point Fakir is just grasping at straws.

Truth is that he doesn't want to stop, not really. The only thing keeping his wits in check is the fact that one wrong move and his job is shot, but as the days tick by even that seems to be a feeble threat in the shadow of such promise. Fakir realizes now that he's crossed the event horizon, and his doom is inevitable.

"What do I do?" He says, because at this point it's really all he can say. The absolute last thing he wants to do is hurt Ahiru, and as much as he hates to admit it (and does he ever hate to admit it,) Rue is the best person to help him out with keeping her the hell away.

"First of all, enough with the messages." Rue says. "Delete her number from your phone. Stop going to lunch together. Don't talk to her outside of class or outside of tutoring, and move on. It's what's best for you both."

"'For you both'?" Fakir chuckles ruefully. "Since when have you been concerned for my sake?"

"Believe me, Fakir, I'm not." She frowns. "But as much as I dislike it, you're still important to Ahiru and important to Mytho, so therefore I still have to consider you."

"I'm touched."

"Don't be."

Fakir leans back in his chair, sighing heavily. The room is stuffy and the atmosphere is unpleasant, and he pulls irritatedly at the collar of his button-up. "Is that all you wanted to say to me, Rue? Or do you have any other words of wisdom to grace me with?"

Rue purses her lips distastefully, staring down at him from the tip of her nose. "No, I believe that I have made myself quite clear," She says, schooling herself back into her prim composure. It's a little startling how easily this girl can switch her emotions, and in a strange way, Fakir is oddly grateful that Ahiru has somebody so fiercely loyal watching out for her.

Like hell he would ever say that, though.

"Now if that's all, Professor, I will see myself out." Rue says.

"Please do," Fakir sighs for not the last time that day. He tries to busy himself by organizing the mess of papers on his desk. "Make sure to flip the lock on your way out."

He doesn't bother to look up to see if she actually heeded his request, but as much as they butt heads, Fakir does not see her as the kind to be unnecessarily spiteful. She's said her piece, and for now that should suffice. Still, the air in the room is uncomfortably stuffy, so he stands to open the window. Almost immediately the room is filled with a warm may breeze and the sound of chattering students ambling about on their way to classes. Faintly on the wind, he can smell the flowers from the courtyard's garden—one of Ahiru's favorite spots on campus.

When he returns to his seat, he settles his head in his arms and sighs.