The Mistress' Revenge

"Are you alright?" Professor Hank leans in, as I fall down on my butt. My head hurts, and my vision is dizzy. But it isn't all that worst. What's worse is I know I am practically naked, and the Professor's too close.

When I don't answer, he takes it as a 'no'. He picks up the towel, facing away from me. His hands wrap it snugly around me.

"Let me help," he says and I have no freaking idea if I need help. Or he needs help.

In dilemma, I nod. Knowing well that he has, at this point seen most things. It couldn't get worse than that.

He picks me up and drops me on the bed. I draw the duvet over me, watching him as he picks out clothes from the wardrobe.

"It's okay. I know you can be very clumsy," he says.

"Please. Let me be. I can dress myself," I didn't want this man around me.

"I would have, but you will end up breaking your neck," he whispers softly.

"I can do it myself!" I shot up, almost losing my balance. My head was hurting. I leaned into the bed, sitting down.

"It's not hassle," he says, picking up the clean underwear. He slips it through my ankles, raising them to my hips. I bucket them, taking them all the way myself.

"I don't think you'd like to put on a bra at this hour," he says. "Or would you?" He looks at me with soft eyes.

"No," I said, and he pulls out the pajama's tee.

"One arm after another," he says.

"Believe it or not, but I have worn clothes before," I tell him and he flinched.

"Always so rude. Always so sassy. Classic," he says, as he slips in the tee. One arm after another. It spreads over the towel, and I pull it from underneath.

For some reason I want to lie down and not worry about another thing in the world. Not the story. Not Professor Hank. Not my incompetency.

"Thank you," I said at last.

It was hard to not address the elephant in the room. And sometimes it could even be a tall man with long hair and intense eyes.

"My pleasure," he says, leaning back onto my closet's door.

"I missed the part where you tell me why you are here," I said, and his eyes met mine.

"I got a text from your phone. You said there's something you wanted to talk about with me. About the story. And that it was important," he says.

"I do not remember sending you any texts of the kind. I don't even have your number Professor," I said, and he looked at me disappointed.

*I don't know, Jane. But as a part of your Mentorship Programme, I do have yours. And I can show you," he says, producing his phone.

Hello, Professor

I am sorry. It's my fault. I hope we can talk things through.

Can we please meet at my apartment?

I will send you the location.

The phone number was definitely mine, but I didn't remember sending a text.

"If I tell you, you won't believe me," I said, and he looked at me worried.

*What do you mean?" He asks. "If anything it seems like I have played like a fool."

He kinda was. But I won't be the one to tell him.

"It seems like this is someone's sick idea of a joke. While I am not sure, this was done by someone I know. Maybe, Corin did it," I said.

"Well, then. I want you to call Corin right this instant," he says. "Whatever this is, I don't want to stretch this anymore," his gaze turns away as he walks to the bedroom door.

The door closes behind him and I worry that there's something wrong with Professor Hank.

If it weren't for my aching head, I would have followed him. But after five minutes he showed up himself. I sighed.

"I am not calling Corin," I said. I wasn't going to complicate this further than it needed to be.

"I don't want to do this back and forth with you. I am tired. So cut me some slack!" He growls.

"What are you even talking about?" I look at him puzzled.

There's no way I did something wrong here. I was doing my job. He was doing his. Just when did things get so complicated?

"Cannot you see it, Jane? I care for you. Because I am worried you will do something stupid. That you always do. A lot of money's been already invested in your project," he says.

"I cannot watch while you ruin everything I had carefully laid a plan out for!" He looks annoyed. But doesn't say much. He removes his signature brown coat, letting his long hair lose as he sits by the edge of my bed.

I inhale sharply. Something within me feels strange. Are they butterflies or alarms? There's no telling.

"Can you please tell me why do you act so weirdly around me? I have a feeling that you hate me," I tell him. It's like what I have already been saying him.

"I do not hate you. I just want something from you, Jane. I just don't see you doing things for me willingly. You haven't been a good girl," he seethes.

"Ridiculous! You have no idea how much effort I put into everything. I am trying to write those spicy scenes. And today..." I found my breath hitched, and a lump growing in my throat.

Don't cry. Please don't cry. Please ...

"I got humiliated. And called out. I am sorry for the excuses. It's just that I am all over the place. Can't you see?" My voice broke.

I didn't care any more that I was wearing only a tee with underwear. I closed the distance between us.

It was inappropriate. Everything that has happened to the point was inappropriate.

I wrapped my arms around him, and then the tears fell. I felt them pool over his robin blue shirt. My cheek sticking to it. He said nothing.

"I try my best to get done with this story, but I have no fucking idea what I am doing here with it. I wanted to drop out too," I sobbed.

"It feels like an impossible task. I just cannot write spicy scenes the way they want to be written," I cling onto him.

"I don't know what to do with you, Jane," he sighed. Slowly he stroked my head.

"Why don't you write what you want to, and worry about the details later?" He puts in softly.

"I am sorry. I know this is inappropriate. Nobody is supposed to kiss their professor or hug them in their underwear," I sob, very aware that I was getting a runny nose.

But he didn't ask me to move the fuck away yet!

"The chemistry is undeniable. How about we try our best to keep our hands off each other? You can come to me when you want, but-" he hesitates then.

"Who am I lying to? I know how it gets when I am around you. You get the worst out of me," he pulls up my face.

Leaning in, he kisses softly. His lips taste like peppermint as I open up to them. I hug him closely, and he steadies me with an arm.

"Before anything happens, I have to tell you something," I say, and he softly caresses my cheek.

"I know you are taking medications. And that you are not mentally stable. You have told me before under the influence," he kissed my forehead.

"Not that-" I blushed. "I am a virgin. Please don't have high hopes. This is why it's so hard to write smut for me," I bury my face in his chest.