Sinclair
This was the third trimester of the year, three more months, ninety more days, and she's done.
No more late nights at the library. No more three jobs to keep her afloat. No more walking three miles a day when she missed the bus.
Just three more months and five more majors standing in her way. And this day was the first in the countdown.
Sinclair's head ducked, avoiding fellow unis converging on the spacious hallway. Everyone belonged in a group. Except her.
She couldn't stand them. And they sure as hell couldn't stand the poor girl at the campus.
Someone even pointed out she smelt funny. Funny? At least she smelled clean and not like an overdose potpourri. Yuck! The thought alone could trigger her allergies to strong smells.
She favored fresh flowers though. And when she had enough money to buy a nice cottage, she will surround herself with a beautiful garden.
Girls giggled when she passed by, pointing at her. She paid them no mind.
She was funny because she didn't smell like a million bucks? The petite and graceful girl mentally scoff. They found it irritating because she got the opportunity to attend a rich kid's university.
She knew they were out of her league. Never one to shy from facts. Her clothes were bought from bargain sales and her bag was a hand-me-down. At least she was enjoying honest living.
The money she earned was clean. That made her proud.
And hey, she was riding on a full scholarship. It was a million euro chance and she had never regretted taking advantage of her blessings.
People bump at her on purpose, she braced herself, since she was small, she made it a mission not to be thrown to kingdom come and worst, fall on her arse. Her audience would surely cheer.
Why were the rich folks so freaking big? What do they eat? Bricks? The thought made her snort. Obviously. Most of them have bricks for brains.
Going directly to her locker to deposit her heavy books and backpack, she looked neither left nor right. All she wanted was to start her day.
Her lips twisted in a grimace at the schedule she was gripping in her hand. Her brain would be tested starting today.
Advanced Calculus.
Advanced Trigonometry.Advance Special Care studies. -Well, that's a breather.-World History.Advanced Literature. Ah. Favorite.Yup. And last but not least 5 to 7 pm for the library.
Not affording the expensive books, she had to make do with the cheap resources she could find. If manning libraries were her answer then who was she to complain.
With her old laptop under her armpit, she was off to her first subject of the day.
-Excited? No.-
***
Thank you to all the Buddhas in the world it was finally the last subject of the day. To add icing to her cake, it's literature. Hallelujah!
Well, she was not a Buddhist. Nor a Catholic. Though, she had nothing against religion. To each his own.
Arg! This mind of hers confused her at times. To think at the age of twenty-one she should no longer be at odds with herself. Her mind, body, and soul should be in harmony.
-Fat chance of that from happening. Concentrate, Sinclair!-
Tapping her dainty fingers on her outdated laptop during the interval, she was busy saving lectures she could remember.
She consciously adjusted her hearing aid. Damn! It was getting annoying. She will have to replace the earpiece soon. The static kept distracting her during lectures.
Girls were giggling to her far left and it caught her attention. Though flitting, it would still make her feel like she was their subject of amusement. For once, she promised to devote herself to Buddhism if they'll just leave her the fuck alone.
Leaning more towards their voice, she sighed in relief hearing their conversation.
"Have you heard the news?" Oh, their favorite subject. Gossip. Sometimes they put gossip girls to shame. And she loved that series. Pity.
"About what?" More giggling. So fucking annoying even to a deaf with a malfunctioning ancient aide.
"We have a new professor and he is gorgeous as fuck! Can't wait to have in-depth study sesh with him." Seriously, their folks were wasting money.
"Oh. I heard about that. My mum is bosom bows with his mother. He is a first-born of a Viscount. From a true English High society." Well, that's new.
"Yeah, I heard that, too. He came from UCLA. There was a scandal of some kind. You know."
"Pft. I won't mind the scandal at all if I can have him where I want him." God! Apparently, being a slut was universal. One didn't have to live in hovels where prostitution was rampant to be one.
"Shhh, the deaf girl can hear you."
"Really, she is deaf for a reason, Sandy."
-I hear you perfectly, bitches. Hmmph!-
Sinclair tapped her forefinger on her left ear a bit where she could still pick up sounds. But she had to concentrate to hear properly and she had to read lips. The right lobe was hopeless. It was damaged beyond repair. But she was saving for a new medical device soon.She locked her jaw to dispel the memories assailing her all of a sudden. To think by now she would have gotten over her past somehow.
Learning a valuable lesson from it. She had lived with a strict principle.
-Love is pain. Never open your heart to anyone.-
-Stay alone. Solitude is a true companion.-
Those were her mantra. She had never dissuaded from it. Not even once.
Dispelling her gloomy mode, she gave her attention back to her work.
The silence inside the room made her look down towards the entrance. She was the only one sitting at the back of the class. All her life she had always tried her best to be a wallflower. Unnoticeable.
Frowning, she glanced at the silhouette filling the opened door. And her jaw dropped. She blinked.
God in all the heavens! Well, it's not too late to be a devoted Catholic.
Why was the man entering the classroom had some kind of a halo following him? Was it a trick of the light?
Sinclair heard the titterings girls to her right sighed. Disgusting. She blinked again then averted her gaze. She was not falling for this shit.
Was he their literature professor? Yeah. From his confident posture, he must be. It was surprising though, he looked too young to be lording over a
group of a hormonal mix of young ladies and men. All looking at him like he was the most expensive of chocolates.Except her.
But...she guessed looking at the man was acceptable. She shrugged.
He was beautiful. He was in a Cavalli gray suit or maybe an Armani.Doesn't matter. He will look gorgeous in anything. And those glasses?
Why does he look stylish on it when her own pair made her look like a nerdy Mongoloid?
He was tall. She was expecting him to look very English but he was not. He was mixed. And his eyes, the pair as dark as the night. Chiseled jaw, flawless skin, and astounding physique. His muscles rippled under his suit when he walks.
Sinclair again looked away. She was not a giddy teenager and she was not interested.
The beautiful man started to talk. And she gave her attention to what he was saying. By reading his lips, because he was a bit far and he was not using a microphone, she was able to get the gist of what he was saying. Just the usual shit on the first day.
So, it's official. He was their lit professor for three months. Him? The God of handsomeness. Uni girls will be all over him in no time. But not her. Never her.
Busy with her thoughts, she was heedless of the tittering of the girls beside her until she noticed the professor moving towards them. Uh oh. Happy day to the bitches.
Shit! She couldn't blame them. He was climbing the steps and his lean muscles beneath his clothes were enticing.
The damning part was, he was walking towards her. Why? Dumbfounded, she tilted her head up and looked at his lips to read him.
He was looking at and addressing her directly. Sinclair gulped.
She must be drooling. No! Panic mode she was and she knew she was blushing furiously.
He was still saying something because she was in shock, she couldn't make out what he was saying. -Tilt to your left, Sin.-
"She can't hear you, professor, she's deaf and a simpleton." One of the bitches snickered with her gang.
She blushed deeply in embarrassment. Great! The first time her girly self had a crush and she already felt like running away from him. -Admitting it, Sin?-
He turned his attention sharply to Sandy. That's the girl's name. -I think.-
Could the floor just swallow her whole?"I beg your pardon, miss? I don't tolerate rudeness in my class. If you can't be civil, step out." She shivered from his deep angry voice. He reprimanded softly but the threat was real. It registered with the way his body stiffened and with the way his gaze sharpened.
The room grew silent once more.
He turned his attention back to her. She gulped.
"Are you ok, miss..." his eyes softened.
"Yes...um... Professor." She squeaked. Why couldn't she breathe?
"Can I request you to sit in front? Please...Ms," His perfect eyebrow rose in a question.
Oh, her name. He wanted to know her name. "I'm Sinclair Yuan, sir."
He smiled slightly. Jesus! He shouldn't do that.
"Come, sit in front, Ms. Yuan." The professor waited for her patiently to rise. Being a true gentleman, he held out his hand to help her up.
No. Nope. Not happening.
But she found herself getting up as he requested. And her cold hand was warmed by his.
-Don't read too much into it. He sympathized with you because you are deaf and petite and pasty.-
Sinclair glanced at the girls and they stared back in disbelief. They couldn't believe this was happening. Neither could she.
Escorting her to a seat right on the front row on a chair in front of his desk, he cleared his throat after he made sure she was comfortably settled.
Sinclair blushed harder.
"Good morning. This is advanced literature, where we analyzed, evaluate, scrutinized every world-famous sonnet, poem, script, text, and writings, and so forth. Nope, we are not going to do role-playing. We are too old for that. And we are not in high school anymore." He began. His diction was precise and his posture was commanding but relaxed.
Everyone sighed in relief.
She had clearly heard the amusement in the professor's voice.
"What we are going to do is master them by heart, so when your pupils or students ask about it. You will know what to answer. And most importantly, you will know how to teach it."
Feeling at ease despite the incident with the bitches, her lips curve in a smile. She loved kids. That's why she was here.
"But before that. I want to introduce myself."
He turned to walk towards the whiteboards. Nice butt. Sinclair!
Nicholas Stafford VI, Ph.D. in Education. Major in World Literature and Natural Science.
His name alone spoke of leadership and aristocracy.
When he faced them once more, his eyes bored into hers.
He walked to stand directly before her. Shit! Not again. "Ms. Yuan, what is your favorite poem?"
Why her? She hated being in the spotlight.
"I...ah...Song To Celia, sir. But...um... I have several." Damn. He smiled patiently at her stuttering. See, he pities you.
"Ah. By Ben Jonson. Care to share a verse?" Why was he doing this to her? -Do what? He is your professor. That's what they do. Teach and discuss.-
He was waiting patiently for her answer.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. -Don't make me stammer, please.-
"Drink to me only with thine eyes
And I will pledge with mine.Or leave a kiss but in the cupAnd I'll not look for wine." The words were almost whispered.Professor Stafford blinded her with his white teeth at her breathy words. His eyes gleamed.
Her heart skipped a beat. No! Not happening. She was too old to have a crush. Not him. Not ever.
Those tempting gaze left her. She gulped a breath.
"And that is the first poem we are going to study. I will give you fifteen minutes to research it then we begin our discussion."
Thank God they had a diversion for the day. -Just for the day.-
She'd have to be in his presence five days a week for three months.
Just great. Really great. -Note the sarcasm.-
-Is it too late to shift class?-
______________
Sinclair To say the professor was relentless was an understatement. They, the students, became slaves of the subject.And he was taking no prisoner. One only had two options. Passed or failed. He was a freaking slave driver. And to think Sinclair loved literature. All along she thought it was the easiest of amongst her major subjects but it was not. The research, the debate, and the dissection of each piece were mind-boggling. On top of that, she had to make a thesis with one old poem, and from there a short story with a minimum of seventy thousand words.Basically, a novel. Who in their right mind would do that? Him. Her professor. -Wait? What?- Where did that thought come from? Well, she didn't mean it like that. She meant in a purely professional way. This conversation with hers
SinclairNothing and no one could change her good mood today. Not even those wannabe spice girls.The extra money from last night made her fill her cupboards. It had been a while since she had indulged in grocery shopping. And the breakfast delivered anonymously, it was obviously from a top-notched restaurant, filled her tummy to the brim.Having extra shillings, made her buy her favorite lip gloss. Of course, it was cheap but it did wonderful things to her lips. Making her feel pretty, too.She had a few bucks left, the money was budgeted until payday.In high spirits and about to reach her locker, her happy steps faltered. From the corner of her eye, she saw Sandy, from her class walking a bit too close to...Professor Stafford. Cozy. Sinclair thought bitterly. They came out of the teacher's lounge at this early hour. When most likely no one was about. The girl was smilin
Sinclair -Later, sweet?- What did he mean by that? Nope. She was not going to wait and find out. Home was where she should be. Far from the tempting professor. She was almost out of the building when her path was blocked by Sandy and the spice girls. -Really? Isn't this overrated?- This was so old school. "What does he see in you, Chinese girl?" God! No originality. Sinclair was tempted to speak in Mandarin to prove her point. But she didn't know the language. A pity. -Old mother English it is then.- "Chinese girl, really? That's the best you can come up with?" That gave her nemesis a pause. Oh, the bitch was trying to think with her fish brain for a good comeback. "You are nothing. We don't even know your name. You are poor, deaf, and...and...
Warning Explicit Language and Scenes 18+ Sinclair All her instinct were telling her to run from him. From Nicholas. He was her professor and if the school administration found out... Wait. What would they find out? They were not even dating. He had not asked her out. And even if he did, she would say no. She didn't want to embarrass him. Though there were those not-so-innocent touches, holding her hands, embracing her to give her comfort, bussing her cheek and forehead, he always acted like a gentleman. Maybe this was how he acted with his lady friends? He must have lots of them, her mood turned sour. She hated imagining it but he was not hers, to begin with. After his friend fitted the earpiece and made necessary adjustments on her new medical aid, Nicholas had insisted on coming home with her despite her vehement protests.
Nicholas -Sinclair. My sweet.- It was never his intention to leave her at the break of dawn while she was sleeping. She was not a one-time thing and she was not his latest mistress. She was more than that. Much much more. Breakfast in bed would have been much better. Literally and figuratively. But dinner in bed was incredible. He reheated their take-outs and fed her despite her protests. There was nothing more fulfilling than watching his woman eat. Sated and content, they fell asleep in her small bed. And as he had predicted, she was draped on top of him because of the confined space. He wasn't complaining. He even looked forward to doing it again and he had hoped to occupy his mammoth four-poster bed instead the next time. This morning though, he groaned at the discomfort, stretching the kinks in his muscles. Yup, the stiffness in his shoulders and
Sinclair -I told you, didn't I?- She had made the most stupid mistake of her life despite her warnings. She trusted. She loved. She fell. And he was not there to catch her. She should have known better. The problem was she gave precedence to the chemicals emitting from her brain whenever he was around. Fuck attraction! Look where it landed her. She was once again back to that old box questioning her worth. After years of self-therapy, fear had crept over her once more. She was as unbalanced as she was when the people she cared for the most left her at a tender age. She was definitely worthless. -Stop! You are not!- The last text she received from him was three days ago. He said there was a family emergency. Yeah, right. She was sure he used that same exact excuse before.
NicholasGod! He was dead tired. The responsibilities resting on his shoulders were overwhelming.His father was a distinguished member of London's Aristocracy. His internment and the place where he was laid to rest had to befit his station in life.With friends at the club and with his solicitors' help, everything went smoothly as planned.The only important thing missing was his Sinclair. Five fucking days. He didn't receive one text from her. Not even a missed call. Nothing.His imagination was running wild. He told her there was a family emergency. No response. What could she be up to?Was she eating well? Did she get sick? He tried his best to sneak out but it was fucking impossible.Nobility from all over England kept arriving. Some stayed until the funeral. His duty was to stand beside his mother and support her in her
Sinclair-What am I doing here?- Her hands securely tangled in his, they walked hand in hand from his garage to the front of his house. He has yet to let her go.Sinclair looked around her. The neighborhood he was living in was far cry from where she came from. This was the opulent side of London where the rich and famous converged. More of an exclusive part of the city.And Nicholas's modern townhouse was no exception. One could not even call it properly a bachelor's pad because it was not. It was a freaking three-story high-end modern structure.It was still early in the evening but this type of neighborhood didn't have people milling about outside their flats. And it was too quiet."Nick," she squeezed his hand. He stopped and turned to her."Yes, sweet?" He arched his brow."Are you sure about this?" She bit her lip nervously.