Author's Note: Omg, you guys. I love everyone who reviewed my little chapter and everyone who favorited me/my story or put this on their Story Alerts siohfasdfasd. Seriously. You all are wonderful readers and I really hope this chapter pleases you guys. It was somewhat tricky to write because I had to give a little bit more of a background on who Elizaveta was and what she's doing at the university. Oh and Kay (author of General Relativity ohoh), you'll see some..familiar people in this chapter. Hope you don't mind me making vague references to certain "characters" of yours~

EDIT 08/03/2013: This chapter has also been revised a bit! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

'I can't stop thinking about him.'

After her music classes, Elizaveta headed to the practice rooms and was determined to lock herself in there for three hours. The room was barely large enough for a small piano and one music stand. Although it was initially a challenge, she managed to set up her practice area, resting her violin case on the piano bench and leaving her extra music on the piano while she stood in front of the wobbly music stand.

"The things I put up with for music," she said through gritted teeth as she began.

The first hour consisted of her warming up her fingers on the violin, making sure there was no tension in her hands and upper body. She ran over exercises and scales which were both part of her daily practice routine. The second hour was spent practicing her part in Beethoven's Minuet in G for the chamber orchestra she was a member of. Her part was simple but Elizaveta liked to be very thorough when it came to music. She studied each phrase until she could play it ten times in a row without fail.

Once the third hour rolled around, Eliza began to pack up her violin. She held her instrument's curvy body with care and gently placed it in its case. She gathered her things and made sure everything was put away before sitting down in what she made sure was the cleanest corner of the room.

The rules of the practice area clearly indicated that no food or drinks were permitted within the rooms but she liked to think she was an exception. Elizaveta was secretly a rebel at heart.

Her fingers reached into her backpack for a brown paper lunch bag. She was a simple girl when it came to eating on campus. She preferred to make a sandwich and bring a few snacks from home instead of purchasing food from the café. There was that one physics professor who seemed to buy all his junk food from there but she couldn't quite recall his name. Albert? Anthony?

On her lap was Hortobágyi palacsinta, which was a typical dish from her homeland. To an observer, it was basically a pancake filled with veal, sour cream and lots of paprika. As she began to eat it, she remembered offering it to Matthew once, who politely declined, mumbling something under his breath about how pancakes shouldn't be spicy.

She ate in silence, slowly chewing her food and sipping water to wash it down her throat. Her mind wandered back to that morning, to Professor Edelstein.

After class, a ton of girls waited by his office and begged for piano lessons. Professor Edelstein politely turned them down, stating that he only gave lessons for piano majors and all secondary piano students had to study with the secondary piano professors. Those were the rules and he was firm about following the rules. She had watched him from afar, looking at the way the girls thrust out their chests, played with their hair, and giggled at everythinghe said.

She was jealous. Her anger pumped through her veins and she wanted to wipe those smiles off of all of their faces in whatever means necessary. Where had the sudden possessiveness come from?

Eliza hadn't realized he knew she was observing them. It didn't occur to her to try to make it not obvious. Professor Edelstein had looked right at her before heading inside his office, bidding the ladies a good afternoon after excusing himself to file some paperwork.

Her heart stopped when his eyes had met hers and of course, she ran and hid herself in the practice rooms.

Which is where she still was, eating her lunch.

'Gods, I am pathetic. He can probably see right through me.'

Her phone alarm went off, pulling her from her thoughts. She checked the reminder; there was a meeting for all music majors in the orchestra rehearsal room where the music faculty would announce what students they would take under their wing.

A meeting which was supposed to start in five minutes.

"You'd think I wouldn't be running to anything anymore after 3 years here," Elizaveta grumbled as she quickly finished eating, taking a last swig from her water bottle before grabbing her things and dashing out of the room and into the hallway. She thrust her belongings into her locker and immediately began running toward the meeting room, rounding the corner and almost colliding right into -

"Miss Elizaveta!"

Eliza had run right into him – right into Professor Edelstein. She ran into him with such force that she pushed him into the wall and had him pinned.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Professor, please excuse my behavior. I was, um..I-I was heading to the meeting and I didn't want to be late, you know, since it's the first meeting and I'm really really sorry, this is so embar–" she rambled on until he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright, I understand the hurry. Perhaps it would be best if we get going?" He looked down at her. Elizaveta was acutely aware of how her breasts were pressed against his chest and her stomach was right where his..

'...is it that.. what I think it is?'

She pushed herself away, tucking her hair behind her ear and smoothing down her skirt. She didn't want to think about what she thought she felt.

"Yes, wouldn't want to be late." She giggled nervously. Professor Edelstein gave a slight nod and they headed down the hallway.

Once they reached the doors, she made her way in and sat amongst the students while he took his seat amongst the faculty.

The meeting began with a small, simple speech which he gave about what music meant to him and the university. Professor Edelstein then introduced himself to the rest of the students, mentioning that he was from Austria and had studied at the Mozarteum in Salzburg.

Elizaveta made a mental note to brush up on her German.

The rest of the faculty presented themselves, indicating what classes they taught and what they expected from their students. At the end, the music majors were told to line up by instruments with their respective professors and for all secondary piano lessons to see the secondary piano teachers.

Which was not something Elizaveta wanted to do.

She walked slowly over to the violin teachers. There were three this year and she desperately wanted Professor Halter. He was considered the best out of the three and was from Paris. She was quite curious about him and wanted someone new to study with.

"Elizaveta Hedervary?" Professor Halter's voice had only a hint of a French accent. Eliza edged her way to the front of the line.

"Hello Professor," she responded meekly. Her nerves were trying their hardest to rattle her.

"You will be my student this year, my dear! Here is your syllabus. Now, if you can give me your number, we shall schedule when we shall meet for lessons." He handed her a packet of papers which were neatly stapled together in the left hand corner.

Eliza wrote her name and number with a flourish on the paper and walked away, ridiculously excited at her luck. There was going to be some fistpumping when she was properly alone afterward.

The next group of professors she had to meet up with were the woodwind professors. They were a tricky quintet, composed of 50 year old men and one woman in her 30s whose career was based on the flute.

Her clarinet teacher was Professor Dodge, who was a stern man and took lessons very seriously. She had had him for the past three years and was relieved that he simply handed her the paper, gave a curt nod and strode away. They had already established their schedule over the past years and no more needed to be said.

Elizaveta glanced around; she still needed to visit the piano professors. She headed to the middle of the room where the long table of teachers sat before her, discussing with their students what their schedules would be. She dreaded all of them. It wasn't that they were "bad" teachers. She merely felt as though they did not challenge her enough.

Then again, she couldn't call herself "gifted" at piano either. It had taken her three years to learn that Chopin piece by ear and it still wasn't perfect. She accepted her fate and took a step forward, ready to see who would be the one to deal her torture this year.

"Miss Elizaveta, if you would please join me at my table," a low voice had said from behind her.

She turned around and looked up to see Herr Edelstein (she smiled inwardly at how quickly she was already brushing up) gazing down at her. He adjusted his glasses and walked to his chair with Eliza trailing silently behind him. Professor Edelstein took his seat and placed an elegant hand on the stack of papers before him.

"It has been brought to my attention that none of the secondary piano professors can give you lessons this year. As I've been told, since you have decided to take on the task of studying two instruments, you will be unable to fit in any of their schedules." His voice remained smooth and she was unable to discern whether he was displeased with her ambitious behavior or pleased that she was a dedicated musician.

"Does that mean I may only be able to play one instrument?" Elizaveta's voice was cautious and she didn't want to know exactly where he was taking the conversation.

He paused before slicking his hair back which made her breath hitch.

Once again, her thoughts went elsewhere.

'Maybe if I lean forward a little, do what those girls were doing, perhaps he'll notice me? Silly Lizzie? Already wanting to fuck her professor on top of a piano..?'

She blushed at the thought, imagining him on top of her, pushing her into the wood of the piano. His hips would connect with hers and—

"...no. This means that I will be your piano professor for your final year at this university."

Professor Edelstein would be her piano professor. The man who only taught piano majors would be her piano professor.

"Oh. Th-thank you, Herr Edelstein." She spoke clearly, trying out his title in his language.

There was no visible sign that he had heard her until she noticed that his ears had turned slightly pink. 'So, he likes me speaking German...' Eliza decided it was high time she picked up conversing in German with Gilbert's brother again.

Professor Edelstein picked up his syllabus and slid it across the table where it now lay in front of her. Her fingers reached out to place it in her backpack when he said, "I'll need your phone number in order to contact you about scheduling our lessons together."

Eliza's eyes roamed the desk for any sort of official sheet for her to jot her number down but there was none. Professor Edelstein smiled, amused at her confusion and took out his phone.

"If you would please dictate your number for me?"

"Oh, alright.."

She gave him her number and asked him repeat it back to her twice to make sure he got it right. He slid his phone back into his pocket and stood up, a cue that their meeting was over.

Elizaveta tightened her grip on the shoulder straps of her bag.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Herr Edelstein," she said softly.

"Yes, tomorrow, Miss Elizaveta. Be sure to do your theory work, ja?"

She bit her lip in order not to smile at the sound of him saying "ja" instead of "yes."

'He's just too cute.'

"Yes, of course. Good bye, Professor."

He gave a slight bow and gathered his papers. As she left, she noticed that one of the papers he was sliding into a folder was labeled, "Piano Student Information." That...was the list she was looking for earlier. Of that, she was certain.

Eliza left quickly, heading out of the music room, into the hallway and outside where she swallowed a lungful of air. She didn't even realize she was holding her breath while she was leaving.

He had asked for her number.

Her number. She wasn't even a piano major.

She wasn't special. She was just Lizzie. Just... Lizzie.

No. Not Lizzie.

'Elizaveta.'

Her heart was still pounding as she made her way through the parking lot and into her car. She slid down the seat and held her head in her hands.

'What just happened?'