Thread: English 2352 {DearestDarling & Dane Stalling}

Rosalie said nothing more in class, instead, she pulled out her phone and began texting, a silent 'fuck you' to her professor. He hadn't answered her question, not really. He could use the pictures, sure, but he hadn't said where he got them from. Besides the one that she had sent him, of her own free will. Did he creep on other students' Facebook pages? Why did the thought of that make her feel... Jealous? She had texted Jessica and told her that band practice was cancelled, immediately receiving demands to tell her how class was going. 'He decided to fuck with me, and not in the way you were hoping for. He's an asshole. This is the beginning and the end of that saga.' Then she muted Jessica for a while, scrolling back up to find Alex in her contacts. 'Band practice is cancelled,' she wrote, 'but let's go back to your apartment.' As soon as he answered, of course in the affirmative, she gathered up her things and promptly left in the middle of Luke's droning, not bothering to give him a second glance. She was done with him. Whatever had happened last night, that magic, that spark of connection that she thought she had felt... It had just been the drink. Alex cupped her face, his mouth nearly finding hers before she could manage to push him away. No kissing. You know that's not part of the deal. Alex gave her a long, hard look before finally releasing her, easing his sweaty body off of hers. They had wasted no time when they had reached his apartment, ducking his roommate who had been glued to the Xbox and altogether uninterested in what they were up to, and went back to his bedroom to fuck. It used to happen more often, almost like clockwork when Rosalie had a date go wrong, or some kind of drama with a boyfriend. But she had given up on dating, and thus on Alex... Until now. You'll take my cock in your mouth, but you won't kiss me. She didn't give him the benefit of a reply. She was already smoothing down her skirt, and looking around for the panties he had tossed somewhere in his room. He hoped she wouldn't find them. So what happened? I thought you weren't seeing anyone. I'm still not. I just needed... Something. You talk too much. She frowned, gathering her hair into a messy ponytail. She found her panties stashed into the crevice between Alex's bed and the wall. He was a real creep when he wanted to be. Most girls want guys to talk, to kiss them, not just fuck them silly. Tell me what's going on. Who is he? He was still naked, sitting on the bed as Rosalie slipped back into her panties. She sighed, picking up her backpack from where she had tossed it on the ground. Most guys just want a quick fuck, so I'm not the only one breaking my gender stereotype. I need a ride to the library. Are you going to get dressed? I need a shirt I told you not to jerk off on my breasts. She didn't wait for him to offer one, already digging through his dresser and finding one of her own, a Doors shirt that had been slashed to pieces. Creepy, creepy motherfucker, keeping her clothes with his, but at least she had something to wear. Fine, let me get dressed. He wasn't going to get an answer out of her, not when she was like this. She had gone to the library to study for her Greek history class-- thankfully, they had a lot of texts that she couldn't really afford on her own. She drifted from shelf to shelf, still angry and distracted. How could he have used her picture like that? Once she had sent, it was his to 'use', sure, but not for a fucking PowerPoint. She thought back to the dive, to the moment where she had almost thought he would kiss her. And she had almost wanted him to. Would he see her play again? Did she want him to? She had meant to get into his head, but like the sexting, it had backfired. ...I guess I knew she might be a little miffed, but she went totally ballistic... Was she hearing him now, too? Rosalie immediately dumped her pile of books onto the nearest table, and slowly wandered to where she thought the voice was coming from. Past a few students hemming and hawing as they traced the spines of books, looking for the right dewey decimal number, until she had nearly cleared them for the seating area, but not quite leaving their shelter. She spotted him immediately, sitting on the edge of a chair with ugly, outdated upholstery, playing chess with another man she hadn't seen, but could only guess was another professor. She immediately turned her attention to the shelf in front of her, suddenly fascinated by books in front of her, Afro-Asiatic literatures. Luke, if you're boning a student, I don't want to know about it. I'm not. I haven't. But his tone was all wrong. He had just been accused of cheating on his wife, of an unethical and immoral act, and he sounded... sad, that he hadn't committed it. She couldn't help but laugh, muffling the sound with the back of her hand. Maybe she was his Mephistopheles. He certainly sounded like Faust.... He wanted to be damned. He had spotted her. He must've heard her laugh. She left the pretense of the bookshelf, her ponytail bouncing jovially as she approached the chess game. Professor, I'm glad I ran into you. You left this. She slipped the tie out from her backpack, as a magician might pull out his silk scarves. Where he had left it, and why she had it, she left untouched. She dropped it in his lap, then turned her attention briefly to the other professor, offering her hand. Pleasure to meet you, I'm Rosalie Clarke. I'm one of Luke's students... For now, anyway. It looks like I might be transferring to another class, soon. She squeezed Luke gently on the shoulder, smiling.