Sebastian POV
An unsettling disquiet had begun to permeate Sebastian's days, a subtle shift in the atmosphere around him, like the air before a storm. It was nothing he could pinpoint, just a vague sense of unease. Colleagues seemed more reserved, their conversations sometimes halting abruptly when he approached, their smiles not quite reaching their eyes. Students' gazes lingered a moment too long, a flicker of something unreadable – curiosity? suspicion? – in their eyes.
Then came the rumours, insidious and amorphous, like a creeping fog. Whispers in common rooms, hushed conversations in library alcoves that ceased when he drew near, leaving a charged silence in their wake. He couldn't catch the specifics, only fragments – "inappropriate relationship," "abuse of trust," "academic favouritism." His name was being mentioned, he was sure of it, linked with... he didn't dare to think what. Each overheard snippet was like a tiny paper cut, insignificant on its own, but collectively bleeding him dry.
He tried to dismiss it as paranoia, the product of his own guilty conscience. It's just my nerves, he'd tell himself. I'm imagining things. But the feeling of being watched, of being judged, grew stronger, a palpable pressure. He found himself becoming more reclusive, avoiding social interactions, his anxiety a constant, churning knot in his stomach.
His only solace was Ethan. In the sanctuary of their secret world, Ethan was his rock, his confidant. He poured out his fears, his anxieties about the vague, unsettling rumours, his voice sometimes trembling.
Ethan listened with an expression of profound sympathy and outrage, his arm protectively around Sebastian's shoulders. "It's disgusting, Sebastian," he said, his voice tight with anger, his eyes flashing with a fierce loyalty that warmed Sebastian to the core. "How dare they? It's just jealousy, pure and simple. They can't stand to see you happy, to see us happy." He held Sebastian close, his embrace a shield against the unseen enemies. "Don't listen to them, my love. We have each other. That's all that matters."
Ethan's unwavering support was a balm to Sebastian's frayed nerves. He clung to it, desperate to believe that their love was strong enough to withstand any external threat. He didn't see the cold calculation in Ethan's eyes as he offered comfort, didn't realise that Ethan himself was the source of the storm that was about to break.
Then, the first concrete sign of trouble arrived. An anonymous letter, typed and slipped under his office door. It was short, brutal, and to the point: "Professor Ashworth, your disgusting and unprofessional conduct with your student favourite is an open secret. You are a disgrace to this college and this university. Steps are being taken to ensure you face the consequences of your actions."
Sebastian stared at the letter, his blood turning to ice. His hands trembled so violently he could barely hold the paper, the words blurring before his eyes.
Student favourite.
The words screamed Ethan. Steps are being taken.
Panic, cold and sharp, clawed at his throat, making it difficult to breathe. He showed the letter to Ethan, his face ashen, his hand shaking as he held out the single sheet of paper.
Ethan read it, his expression hardening into one of fierce protectiveness. "The cowards," he hissed, crumpling the letter in his fist. "To hide behind anonymity. This is a vendetta, Sebastian. Someone is trying to destroy you. We have to find out who." He exuded an air of righteous fury, of a lover ready to defend his beloved against all odds.
***
Ethan POV
Later, alone, Ethan smoothed out the crumpled letter, a copy of the one he himself had typed and arranged to be slipped under Sebastian's door. It was a calculated move, designed to heighten Sebastian's paranoia and his reliance on Ethan as his sole protector. His evidence folder, meticulously labelled "Ashworth Project," was growing satisfyingly thick.
He had it all now: copies of emails where Sebastian practically outlined essay arguments, photographs of confidential departmental review documents from their night in the archives, detailed notes of exam questions and committee preferences Sebastian had divulged, and hours of audio recordings. These recordings captured Sebastian's declarations of love intertwined with admissions of academic misconduct, his tearful justifications, his pathetic gratitude. One particularly prized recording was Sebastian's emotional breakdown after the archive incident, his voice thick with tears as he confessed, "I did it all for you, Ethan... I know it was wrong, but I couldn't bear to see you struggle."
Ethan had even begun discreetly cultivating a few of the more resentful DPhil candidates, like Oliver St. James, subtly stoking their suspicions about Sebastian's favouritism, feeding them carefully chosen morsels of information that would lead them to their own (correct, but Ethan-guided) conclusions. These seeds of discontent would prove useful later, creating a chorus of aggrieved voices.
His research into university statutes on academic misconduct was complete. He knew exactly which lines Sebastian had crossed, which regulations had been breached. The anonymous letter to Sebastian was just the prelude; similar, more detailed complaints to the administration were already drafted, ready to be dispatched through untraceable channels. The groundwork for James Whitmore, the ambitious young journalist he'd earmarked from a national paper, was also being laid, an anonymous tip-off about a "major academic scandal brewing at Oxford" already sent.
He smiled, a thin, cold curve of his lips. The storm was not just gathering; he was its architect.
***
Sebastian POV
But even as Ethan plotted their "defence," promising Sebastian he would uncover the source of these "malicious lies," the university administration received its own set of anonymous complaints. More detailed this time, hinting at specific instances of academic impropriety, of boundaries crossed. The language was disturbingly similar to the letter Sebastian had received.
A few days later, Professor Albright, the Head of Department, summoned Sebastian to his office. Albright's usually jovial face was grim, his demeanour formal and distant, all traces of their former collegiality gone.
"Sebastian," he began, his voice heavy, avoiding Sebastian's gaze, "some rather... disturbing allegations have been made. Concerning your conduct. Specifically, regarding your relationship with one of your DPhil students, Mr. Ethan Blackwood, and potential academic irregularities." He paused, his gaze finally meeting Sebastian's, unwavering and cold. "The university takes such matters extremely seriously. An informal inquiry is being initiated. You will, of course, have the opportunity to respond."
Sebastian sat frozen, the Head of Department's words washing over him like a tidal wave. Informal inquiry. Disturbing allegations. Mr. Ethan Blackwood. The room seemed to tilt. The storm had broken. And he was standing directly in its path.