Thread: The Professor With the Thorn in His Side (PassTheHatchet & dearestdarling)

Audrey Woods had always looked forward to the first day of classes. At 20 years old, she was finally feeling as though she had her life together she was starting her second year of college, and over the summer she had moved out of her dorm and into her first apartment, a tiny little thing just off of campus. It wasn't the most glamorous of living spaces, but it was hers, and she was finally rid of her irritating, goodie two shoes roommate that always complained when her music was too loud, or she came home too late. Her freshman year had been marked by plenty of parties and debauchery, but unlike some of her friends, she wasn't at school just to have a good time. She really did love her school work, and in her journey to becoming a cultural anthropologist, there were many nights she needed to spend pouring over books, her long, chocolate-y hair tossed up in messy bun, glasses that she only needed for reading perched in front of her bright hazel eyes. She loved hanging out with her friends, but her true moments of happiness were those she spent alone, working hard to actualize her academic dreams. Most of her first day back was spent in general education classes calculus, life sciences, a history class that was unrelated to her major. But her last class, she had been both looking forward to and dreading all day. She loved the subject matter and the sense of discovery she felt, learning about different cultures from all over the world... but her professor had no sense of humor, and didn't like her input on his lessons, admittedly unasked for that it was. She was going to have to learn how to keep her opinions to herself, however, because this particular professor taught many of the classes that she would need to complete her degree... Staying on his good side was key. She waited until the last possible moment to enter the humanities building, enjoying the last of the summer sun on her bare legs and arms. She didn't dress quite as scantily as some of the sorority girls she would hang around with occasionally, but she liked her body, and felt comfortable in shorts and a tank top. After all, this wasn't the 1800s! No need for tightly-buttoned blouses and skirts that covered scandalous ankles. She was just a little on the short side, and her body was lean and toned, but not muscular. She had the curves of a woman just cresting adulthood, her skin light and fair, despite spending the summer on the beach. She didn't feel that she flaunted her body, but why hide it away in uncomfortable clothing, with some lofty sense of propriety? Her phone pinged as she pulled her phone from her pocket to check the time, and as she walked to class, she skimmed the email from the dean she'd received. Just the usual blather about obeying the rules, she concluded, and slipped her phone back into her pocket. Maybe she had picked the wrong school to attend she wasn't a troublemaker, but education should be interactive! Not stuffy, old, traditional... She made it into the lecture hall just in time, having to take one of the empty seats in the first row. Her professor, Adam Blunt, was fussing around with a projector, with a tie around his neck that looked so tight it could choke him. He wasn't unattractive by a long shot, but he dressed in a way that Audrey found very unflattering for his young age. After all, her poetry teacher wore jeans and a tshirt, like most of her students! But Professor Blunt seemed very attached to the sense of decorum and respect that his profession demanded. Just last semester, he had admonished her for speaking up in class, insisting that she shouldn't challenge his ideas and lessons, but Audrey didn't know if she could sit and listen, like he wanted her to. She couldn't help but feel passionately about her favorite subject. He addressed the class and she sank into her seat, hoping he wouldn't notice. Despite their tumultuous relationship as a student and teacher, she really wanted to put her best foot forward this year. Taking out a pen and notepad, she jotted down information from the slides, her head resting on a hand she had propped on the desk.