College AU, baby!

...

She wasn't jealous. She wasn't. It was acting, and shitty acting at that. She didn't care. And yet, she found herself with fists clenched, anger broiling within her.
She applauded the show, only rolling her eyes when he couldn't see. He was elated, drinking in the applause, only letting his eyes dust over her for a moment, settling warm and mischievous before moving on. She felt her heart rise as a lump in her throat, choking her.

"Seems you were the only one who cared for the extra credit," he smirked, meeting her in the lobby of the playhouse.
"There were others, I saw them at intermission."
"And they didn't care to stick around?"
"Evidently not," she shrugged, maintaining a facade of indifference.
"Well. I look forward to reading your paper on tonight's performance."
"About that," she, boldly, took his arm, letting him guide her through the adoring crowd. "I have an awfully busy weekend-"
"Oh?" He cocked his eyebrow.
"And was wondering if I could have an oral exam instead." She looked away nonchalantly, as if she wasn't nymphood incarnate.
"I suppose that could be arranged," he smirked. "Really, I must commend your studious nature, Miss Baudelaire."
"Well, the subject is entertaining enough, if challenging."
"You have my sincere agreement," he stopped to shake someone's hand, smiling.

She watched him, the vain creature, soaking in the praise. On the other side of the hall, the leading lady was accepting similar, if undeserved, praises. She fought the urge to scowl as some women tittered about him excitedly. A woman posed for a photo with him, touching his chest. Her heart burned within her. For once giving up the desire to act older than she was, she allowed herself her pettiness, stepping close to his side. He didn't protest, though he did take a moment to glance about the room.
"Everything alright?" He spoke at a level only she could hear.
"You'll have to pardon me if I'm not so keen on sharing," she spoke the words through a smile, masking her true envy.
"Don't deny me my laurels. I'm an artist, Darling."
"Should I leave you to your fans then?"
"Come now. Let them have their fun."
"They can have theirs so long as they stay away from mine."
"I can't decide if I should take you to shows more or less often."
Sighing, she let go of him.

Going out was dangerous; they had to be careful. She, however, seemed intent upon throwing caution to the wind, reckless in her single-mindedness. It wasn't that he didn't want every person possible to see her in his company, but it did create the very real possibility of them being caught.
"While I must admit I don't actually mind you jealous, don't go forgetting yourself." he spoke to her without looking directly at her.
"Why? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?" Her voice was light, but the words were heavy.
"Embarrassed? Never. Just a bit concerned about your utter lack of discretion."
"Discretion? Is there anything so terrible about a student and teacher conversing?"
"Conversing? No. But you know I have little practice in denying myself my wants."
"Then I best hope none of the chorus girls strike your fancy."
"Oh, please. You're well aware I have a type."
"Which is?"
"Nosy little bookworms."
"Really? You haven't a weakness for girls in short skirts?" Her hand brushed against his.
"Of course I do, particularly when they're both stubborn and relentlessly unkind."
"Am I unkind?"
"Wearing that dress was very unkind indeed, knowing I'd not be able to touch you."
"Why not? Who's here to see?"
Looking around, he realized she was quite right; it was a risk, but a calculated one. They were in a crowd of strangers. She bit her lip.
Leaving his wits behind him, he caught her in his arms, smiling as he kissed her. Let people look, let them talk. She was his, the terrible little thing.

"Better now?" He smirked as he broke the kiss.
"Much," smoothing his lapels, she eased off the balls of her feet, feeling satisfied if a bit silly.
"Good," lacing an arm behind her, he led her towards the door. "Now, about that exam."