The days passed, and Eleanor's life at the art institute maintained a semblance of normalcy. She spent her days either cooped up in her apartment and working on a project or hanging out with Kamsi talking about anything and everything.
Her artistic talents continued to blossom, and her connection with Professor Thornton was, at least on the surface, a professional one. The incident in his studio had left a lingering tension that neither of them had addressed.
Thanksgiving had come and gone, leaving behind a fractured relationship with her mother. They hadn't spoken much since that fateful day, their conversations reduced to curt texts and strained silences.
Honestly, that was the least of her problems, Classes were resuming today and the thought of returning to class was a source of dread for Eleanor. She wasn't sure how to face her professor after the moment they had shared. She knew that her feelings were far from resolved, and the ambiguity between them only added to her unease.
As Eleanor sat in her first class with Professor Thornton, the tension between them was palpable, she had worn the prettiest dress she owned and dolled her self up and sat at the front of the class.Their eyes met briefly, and Eleanor saw a flicker of emotions in his dark brown eyes. It was a mix of longing, restraint, and an unspoken understanding.
The class continued, but their interactions remained limited to the necessary instructions for the day's lesson. Eleanor's thoughts were consumed by the unresolved connection between them. She couldn't help but wonder what Professor Thornton was thinking, all she knew was he was definitely as affected by their shared moment as she was and she craved to test his limits badly.
Eleanor was determined to have a taste of him and decided to take a bold and daring step.
After class, she lingered in the studio while the other students departed, and when it was just her and Professor Thornton left, she approached him in his office.
"Professor," she began, her voice laced with an undeniable longing, "there's something I need to know."
He turned to face her, his eyes meeting hers with a mix of curiosity and want. "Eleanor, I told you to call me Alexander when we are alone, what's on your mind?"
With a deep breath, she took long strides and closed the gap between them until their faces were just inches apart. "I can't ignore the way I feel any longer. I need to find out if you feel the same way."
Their lips were tantalizingly close, almost touching, when Professor Thornton pulled away abruptly. His voice was heavy with restraint as he spoke, "Eleanor, you have to understand, I do feel the same way, but I can't act on it. I'm your teacher, and we must maintain professional boundaries."
Eleanor felt a mix of frustration and longing, but was even more determined to break him.
She stares at his full lips, craving a taste of it, she was slightly trembling but managed to keep her voice calm, "Tell me to walk away right now and I would never bother you again."
The professor hand wrap around her waist and it felt like her flesh was burning from his touch, and for a fleeting moment, they surrendered to their desires. But just as their connection ignited and their lips were about to touch, a sudden knock on the door broke the spell.
Startled, they quickly pulled away from each other, their hearts pounding, and Professor Thornton straightened his appearance. "Yes, come in," he called out and she could hear the slight irritation in his voice.
A student entered the room, oblivious to the charged atmosphere that hung in the air.
Eleanor couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and longing. Their connection remained as uncharted as ever, an unrelenting force that seemed determined to keep them
apart.
As she walked away from the studio that day, she had a sly smile on her face and something inside of her was excited that the Professor wanted her just as much as she wanted him.
But Eleanor couldn't shake the feeling that their desires were like desires were like a storm, building in intensity, but with each attempt to embrace them, they were left with the knowledge that they were still just on the cusp of surrendering to their longing