How it all started..
She always stalked from a distance, lurking in the shadows, close but far enough to maintain the boundaries. Its not that she wanted to be a creepy stalker or a weirdo thats in love with her teacher while all the others are busy in actual relationships and talking about boys..being normal teenagers, sharing kisses and living the life.
No, she wanted to be normal too but its as if he'd cast a spell on her the first day he walked in. Everything about him was oh so perfect..from his hair, to his coal black eyes eyes, his tall height to every small little scar on his face. Every little detail even he wouldn't know about himself. She didn't see a single bad thing about this man. He was perfect, but really far from perfect. She wore rose-tinted glasses so thick that even the brightest warning signs blurred into something beautiful.
She knew it was wrong, he was her teacher and all she was to him was just another student. Just another blurry face in a sea of prettier fish. She wasn't important, she wasn't pretty compared to his tastes and she knew it. Besides this was a grown man with a wife and two children. Two beautiful daughters and a gorgeous wife who looked up at him like he hung the stars himself.
He had a life, a world she could never be a part of.
And yet...she couldn’t stop loving him. She couldn’t stop needing him, but despite knowing it all she cant stop loving him.
It was like love at first sight, well not really.
The first time he walked into class to teach was when she was in 7th grade, she was just a child back then, now shes in 12th grade. The students English teacher had went on maternal leave because she was sick. He wasn't even supposed to be their original teacher he had just come for a few months. He had such a nonchalant aura about him, he was a really chill teacher. He sat on the table and introduced himself, then let her and her classmates do whatever they wanted.
She glanced at him then back at her friends laughing a bit.
“Why does he look like he had just woken up?”
Back then, he was nothing to her. Just another tired adult doing a job he clearly didn’t care about, just a random guy that decided to take up the job of teaching "annoying ungrateful kids". He couldn't care less about her or anyone else in the class, she couldn't care less about him either. It was when she could look at him and feel nothing. When she could look at him all she wanted with a neutral face. She was just another kid in a room full of noise, but somewhere along the way, something shifted.
As the years slipped by, that blurry figure she once barely noticed became the center of her universe.
Now, sitting in the back of the twelfth-grade classroom, she watched him with an intensity that would terrify her if she ever let herself admit it.
Every word he spoke, every tired sigh, every rare smile, she soaked it all in like sunlight on starving skin.
He would never know.
He couldn't know.
Because in his eyes, she would always just be a student. A fleeting shadow in the background of his real life. Just another name on his attendance sheet.
And no matter how much it tore her apart, she would stay there, close enough to drown in him, but forever unseen.
“Ebony!”
She woke up from her day-dreaming to him calling her name, he stared and laughed a little at her, confused.
“Do you know what I was just explaining or were you off somewhere in Disneyland? Atleast tell us how it was like.”
He said playfully, thats just how he is. She smiled a little embarrassed, and looked up at him trying to look innocent.
“Sorry sir...Mickey mouse didn't want me to tell you guys anything. Lips zipped.”
She paused and added proudly..too confidently.
“Oh and by the way you were teaching us about gerunds.”
He smirked trying not to laugh more, he had finished teaching that topic last week..they were learning essay structures now, and he had went off topic and talked about restaurants somehow.
“Nice guess but nope, I'll let it slide since I've been yapping about other stuff too.”
Hes so stupidly nice sometimes. Or maybe its her delusions speaking.
