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The library was quiet—blessedly quiet. Just the way I liked it. I'd found a corner by the window, hidden behind a stack of psychology textbooks that made me feel slightly productive.
I was highlighting a passage on cognitive dissonance, trying to pretend yesterday's humiliation hadn't happened, when—
Thud.
Something dropped on the table across from me. I looked up.
Black shirt. Smirk. Glasses. The devil himself.
Professor.
"Do you haunt me for fun?" I snapped in a whisper-hiss. "This is a library."
He sat across from me like he owned the table. "And you're reading about defense mechanisms. How fitting."
I narrowed my eyes. "Did you seriously just stalk me into the library to throw shade?"
"I was already here. I come here often," he said, flipping open a book that I was pretty sure was upside down. "Didn't expect to find my favourite student, though."
"Don't call me that."
He leaned forward slightly, voice low. "You know, most students try to impress their new professor. You're trying really hard not to."
"I don't care about impressing anyone," I said, turning a page harder than necessary. "Especially not someone who weaponizes smirks for a living."
He chuckled. "You're fun."
"Stop saying that. I'm not your entertainment."
"Could've fooled me."
I slammed my book shut. A few heads turned.
He raised an eyebrow. "Temper, temper. You're gonna scare the Freud out of people."
I stood up, gathering my stuff. "You're unbelievable."
I walked away, I could still feel his eyes on me.
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