Library

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The next day, I head to the library to get started on my assignment. As I make my way through the aisles, I spot Miss Adams sitting at a table, surrounded by stacks of old books and papers. She seems to be engrossed in whatever she's working on, her face creased in concentration as she writes.

I hover nearby, trying to work up the courage to approach her. We haven't spoken much since the incident at my house, and I'm not sure where we stand.

"You do realise computers exist, right? You can probably find all this stuff on the Web."

Miss Adams glances up from her work, arching an eyebrow at me. "Oh, I'm aware," she replies, a smirk playing on her lips. "But sometimes, nothing beats the feel of a good old book in your hands, don't you think?"

I nod. "I understand. besides it makes you look very... studious... and cute."

Miss Adams chuckles at that, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Studious, eh? Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

She leans back in her chair, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "And cute, too? Careful, darling. Flattery will get you absolutely nowhere."

I roll my eyes good-naturedly. "Oh, don't pretend you don't love being complimented," I retort.

She laughs, a low, sultry sound. "True, true. I do enjoy a good dose of flattery occasionally. Especially when it's coming from you."

I can feel my cheeks warm at her words, and I quickly look away, trying to hide my reaction.

Miss Adams notices my flustered expression, and her smirk widens. "Ah, there it is," she says, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "That adorable blush of yours."

"Oh shut your mouth and go back to writing whatever boring bullshit article you were writing." As I say this I notice her expression changes and she seems almost annoyed.

Miss Adams's amused expression quickly turns to annoyance as I make my sarcastic comment. She looks up at me, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Boring bullshit, huh?" she says, a bite to her tone. "Is that what you really think of my work?"

"I've never read your work."

She huffs, her annoyance clearly growing. "Then maybe you shouldn't make assumptions about it, darling," she snaps. "Just because you don't think a subject is interesting, doesn't mean others won't find it fascinating."

"Yeah but... English is boring. We know how to speak so why study it? Why make something more complicated than it is?"

Miss Adams sighs, shaking her head in frustration. "You really have no appreciation for literature, do you?" she says, her voice edged with irritation. "Language is more than just a means to communicate. It's a form of art, a way to express emotion and tell stories."

"There's so much depth to English that you're completely missing. The way words are used to create imagery and atmosphere, the different writing styles and techniques. There's so much to learn and appreciate if you just open yourself up to it."

"Right... whatever you say, Miss."

She glares at me, clearly getting more irritated by the second. "I don't appreciate your attitude, darling," she says, her voice sharp and stern. "You might not think English is important, but that doesn't give you the right to disrespect me or my work."

"I wasn't disrespecting you! I would never do that..."

She scoffs, narrowing her eyes at me. "Oh, no? You call my work bullshit, but you're not being disrespectful?"

She crosses her arms, her voice taking on a sarcastic edge. "Then what exactly do you call that, darling? A compliment?"

"No... i- I don't know."

She let out an exasperated sigh, her irritation still clear in her voice. "You don't know, huh?" she mutters, shaking her head. "And yet you feel comfortable making snarky comments about something you clearly know nothing about."

"I'm sorry..." I lean down and discreetly plant a kiss on her cheek, checking to make sure there wasn't anyone around.

Despite her irritation, I see a hint of a smile flicker across her face as I kiss her cheek. Her expression softens, and she lets out a soft huff of breath.

"You're lucky you're so damn cute," she mutters, her tone no longer as sharp as before.

"I'll make it up to you. Tonight. You can come round to my apartment again and I'll let you read out your work to me and I'll listen, okay?"

Her annoyance seems to melt away, replaced by a sly, amused expression. She leans back in her chair, her eyes locking onto mine.

"Are you bribing me, darling?" she says, her voice taking on a sultry tone. "Trying to make up for your insolent behaviour with the promise of a private reading session?"

"I guess I am."

A smile plays at the corner of her lips. "Well, I must say, you do know how to tempt a teacher," she purrs, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Offering me a chance to hear you listen intently as I read to you? How can I say no to that?"

"Just one condition," she says, her tone becoming more authoritative. "You must promise to behave yourself tonight. No sassy comments, no interrupting me, no distractions. You'll sit and listen like a good girl."

I nod emphatically, eager to make up for my earlier behaviour. "I promise, I'll be good," I say, my voice earnest. "No more sass, no more interruptions. I'll be the perfect audience for your reading."

"Good," she says, her tone firm but satisfied. "I expect full attention and cooperation. And if you're a really, really good girl, you might get a special treat at the end of the night."