And Another

Here comes immortal number two!

So much emotion in one day for our poor Enid.

Sometimes I feel bad putting her through so much, but it's just so fun, lol!

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She had two hours between her first class with Dr. Easton and her second and final class of the day.

She spent that time trying to understand the morning's events.

As soon as she escaped the lecture hall, her mind flooded with questions.

Why had he held her back to ask her those things?

She told herself he must be trying to learn each of his new students' names.

But then what about the question of her other professors?

And why did she feel so strongly toward him?

It felt as though each of her nerves were alive when she was in his presence.

The two hours flew by as she pulled apart the moment over and over again, trying to make sense of it.

She decided in the end that she must just be even more unaware of American patterns and culture than she thought.

The first American she had ever met was Sean Jefferies, a poet and artist that her father had had a brief fling with when she was nine.

She hadn't realized at the time that they were romantically involved, too interested in learning about his experiences in America to notice their interlaced hands resting on the table.

He had taught her about football that was played with your hands and the otherworldly taste of a freshly baked apple pie.

She grew attached to him over his four month stay, but he left that October with a tight hug and a promise of letters.

The same pattern continued throughout the years to follow.

Brilliant, talented men from across the world would appear in the doorway of the estate, often at a strange hour of the day.

Her father would welcome them in with warm hugs and bashful smiles.

They would disappear into her father's room and she would listen to their joyful giggles until the record player began and drowned them out.

During his stay, the gentlemen would support her relentless curiosity by answering her questions about their exotic careers and faraway homelands.

Bradley, a man from Iceland with a curling mustache taught her how to ballroom dance.

Jonathan, a Nobel prize winner from Sweden, gifted her with a rare first edition of Mark Twain's The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.

She'd love them until their time was up and they were saying farewell.

It would be just her and her father for a few months and then a knock would sound from the front door again.

From her safe estate on the coast of Wales, Enid experienced the entire world.

The clock tower chimed happily in the cold air as she made her way to the literature building on the north side of campus.

Her two hours spent on the bench in the courtyard across from the library had left her freezing.

She sighed with relief as she stepped into the heated entrance way.

The large atrium was decorated grandly with golden plaques of notable alumni and glittering lanterns on the walls.

Enid immediately loved the space.

It smelled like books pages and ink and Sunday afternoons in her father's office.

She followed the door numbers along to 327.

Strangely, the door was closed even though there was only ten minutes until class began.

Shrugging, she twisted the handle and walked into the softly lit room.

It took her a moment to realize that she must have made a mistake.

Inside was a personal office, one that must belong to one of the professors.

A beautiful oak desk and elegant chairs populated the space, but it overall looked relatively bare.

"Did no one ever teach you to knock? It is incredibly rude to so carelessly barge into someone's office. Especially when the door is closed." An angry voice rumbled.

Enid jumped backward, startled as she had first believed the room to be empty.

Her first thought was that it was a ghost.

The building was old and obviously held a great deal of history, so it wasn't the most far fetched idea she had ever had.

Her eyes darted around quickly, finding a couch pushed against the wall to her right.

A man lay stretched across it, a pillow resting on top of his face.

His legs propped on the armrest, sprawling into the air as he did not fit on the surface.

"Oh, I am so sorry. I thought this was the room my class was in. I didn't mean to intrude." Enid's accent becoming thicker in her distress.

She began to frantically search the pockets of her satchel for her schedule in order to determine how she had confused the classroom numbers.

Had the encounter with Dr. Easton rattled her so badly she had mixed up the numbers?

"Hmm. And what class is it that you were looking for?" His voice, slightly muffled, was accented as well. She couldn't quite distinguish the origin due to the barrier resting upon his face.

"Erm, Dr. Romano's Creative Writing 2800. Again, I am so sorry, sir." Enid's face flushed with embarrassment.

He sat up quickly at her last word and the pillow fell to his lap.

Emerald green eyes looked at her, reminding her of mischievous childhoods and lime ice pops.

His skin was a golden brown and it seemed to glow even in the dim lighting.

His dark brown hair slightly ruffled from his apparent nap.

As he stood, she noticed that while he was not quite as tall as Dr. Easton, he was broader. His shoulders wide and his arms incredibly strong.

He still towered over her. He still made her feel a similar sense of intimidation as her earlier professor had.

He looked to be slightly younger than the other man but was still many years her senior.

He held the same commanding air, his posture demanding respect and attention.

And he was just as beautiful.

But this man seemed to have an edge of playfulness that Dr. Easton did not. His eyes glinted at her as he took her in, a slight smirk on his face. His hands absentmindedly straightening his tie.

His white button up shirt was slightly crooked, showing off the edge of a tattoo on his collar bone.

As his eyes drank her in, reminiscent of what had occurred earlier, Enid fiddled with the ends of her hair to try to distract from the strange reoccurrence.

Something must be off with her appearance, as no one had ever payed such keen interest to it before these two men.

She shuffled slightly, worried he was going to reprimand her further for her intrusion.

"Well, you're in luck, love. I am Dr. Romano. You're currently in room 327 A, which is my office. The classroom is in 327 B. It's an easy mistake to make. No harm done at all." His voice was considerably softer than it had been when she first arrived.

She also realized the accent was Italian, which fit well with his Mediterranean coloring.

She nodded shyly and smiled at the knowledge that she wouldn't be getting in trouble.

"What is your name then, little bird?" He asked her, stepping closer to where she stood in the doorway.

"Enid. It's nice to meet you, Dr. Romano. I'm sorry it wasn't under the best circumstances." Her cheeks blushing as she recalled the berating he had done earlier.

She felt she must be incapable of doing anything right.

"The pleasure is all mine. I'm sorry for the way I snapped when you came in, I'm a little sleep deprived," he rubbed at his neck, "you're always welcome in my office. Anytime you have a question or need anything, please feel free to come by. It seems we're both a ways from home. We foreigners must look out for one another."

Enid smiled wider at this, grateful that her professor seemed to care about his students.

"We should get to class now, little bird. A professor cannot be late to his first day of the semester." He said as he moved even closer to her, his pine cologne surrounding her.

She tried not to be too obvious as she breathed deeply.

His tall, muscular body brushing against hers as he leaned to open the door fully.

Together they stepped out into the hall and he led her next door to the classroom.

Seven other students sat with their desks in a circle, two open spots on opposite sides.

Enid darted toward the one beside a girl that gave her a kind smile as she approached.

"Hello, disciples. This is Creative Writing 2800 and I'm Dr. Romano. That title makes me feel old, though, so I ask that you call me by my first name, Dante. Yes, like the Inferno. I purposefully chose to have a small class, as this course will heavily focus on your personal work and I want to make sure I can give enough one-on-one time with each of you." His eyes met hers from across the circle.

"Let's have you each introduce yourselves and tell us your hobby and favorite book. Everyone pay attention. The people around you will hear all of your writing this semester. They will be your biggest supporters and strongest critics." Dr. Romano said, gesturing at the boy beside him to begin.

Enid startled as she realized it was the same boy that she had met at the coffeeshop that morning.

It felt as though that had been years ago, but it had only been a few hours.

"My name is Jake. I play baseball and my favorite book is To Kill A Mockingbird." He sent a little smirk in her direction and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

The boy next to him had an afro that seemed to have a life of its own and was named Marcell.

Then a girl named Sophie who wore a low cut top and said everything in a flirty voice directed at Dante.

The girl next to her was named Emilia and she apparently swam for the school's swim team.

Enid's turn came and she tried her best to smile the right amount as she spoke.

"I'm Enid. I play the cello. My favorite book is Dr. Seuss's Oh, the Places You'll Go." She blushed as her peers began to snicker at her answer.

Anxiety twisted inside her, she had messed up again.

Dante silenced them with a scowl and gave her a beaming smile. "That's my favorite book, too."

Enid smiled back and when she glanced around she found that Emilia was giving her a supportive smile, contrasting the glare she received from Sophie.

Once the introductions were over, Dante assigned them a prompt for a writing assignment they were to bring to the next class.

He covered some more general explanations and descriptions of what the course would entail and Enid found herself getting lost in his voice.

It seemed as though every time Dante caught her eye he'd give her a secret smile, but Enid was sure she must have been imagining it.

She left the classroom feeling a great deal of excitement for the semester ahead.

She had already begun writing her story in her head and felt the urgent desire to hurry back to her dorm to begin writing it down.

Although it was much more intense, she was also greatly looking forward to her Psychology course as well.

Both professors, as intimidating and honestly strange as they had been, were obviously very good at what they did.

She hummed along to a cello piece she had been attempting to write recently as she walked across the campus.

Enid was excited for a simple year spent focusing on her music and studies.

She just needed to get rid of the draw she felt toward her professors.

∗ ∗ ∗

Oh sweet, naive Enid.

As if I'd ever let you get over them.

*Que evil laughter*

Anyways, two down and one more to go!

What are your thoughts on the two so far?

Comments fill my heart with joy!

With all my love, Sappho ∗