When a very secretive assignment for Mishti’s English class brings her into contact with her teacher whom she’s had a crush on for what feels like forever, will she be able to work out the man behind the phone all while fighting her feelings for the stranger who understands her better than anyone else or will their forbidden contact end Abir’s career as well as ruin her reputation as one of the University’s best?
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~•Part One•~
“What is the unknown?”
Peering through her drenched hair, Mishti coiled her somewhat blistered fingers through a few strands of silky black to clear her view of the lecturer who asked far too many difficult questions that she would never be able to answer with her trivial vocabulary of words. The slim lighting of the rainbow this morning had both bedazzled her and befuddled her, why was it that something so colourful only made its appearance between the forces of light and dark? Her small footsteps upon the grass that sunk her toes in beads of water as she made her way to the hallways of education caused her to grimace at the displeasure ringing through her form like a warning that spoke volumes; whereas the world needed water to grow, often that water would be stolen via those treading another pathway to reach their own destination of evolution, perhaps she was looking too deeply into something that didn’t need her input? But, it was hard to ignore the dry periods of the year spent craving water that ended up clinging to her feet rather than to those objects that needed it most. It was with that very insight that she lifted her hand to answer the question.
Before she could be called upon a man at the back threw out an answer: “Something we don’t know”.
Abir ignored the temptation to squeeze the brim of his nose between his fingertips, instead, he offered a nod of his head that met with wavy neck-length hair scraping his sharp, stubbled jawline “Can you elaborate?” Receiving a negative shake, he turned to the younger woman wrapped in a cotton, cream scarf sat in the corner of the room “Mishti”.
Her name from his cherry lips sent a shiver down her spine, he had this aura about him that easily put him up there as a figure of authority, his brisk tone coupled with the huskiness always made her tremble when his piercing gaze zeroed in on her so she was drowning in the honey warmth of his irises. “The unknown can’t be explained because we simply don’t know what it is, but if I was to try then I would label it a journey taken by all of us in different ways” with the unrivalled intensity of his eyes on her, her voice became quieter and her cheeks turned pink, swallowing away a lump, she continued, “We travel upon the route in order to find answers, on occasion what is unknown becomes known, but not always”.
Narrowing his eyes, he stared her down as her words washed over him “Thank you” turning around, he chalked something onto the board, underlined it and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. “During this class and in life, you will come face to face with puzzles you cannot work out, the lesson here is that it’s okay not to have an answer for everything, when that occurs ensure you can explain why you cannot reach an answer” tapping the word, his lips turned up into a smile, “And that is the very first lesson of analysis”.
Watching the way his arms clenched against his rolled up navy shirt, her nails dug into her palm. It wasn’t an unknown fact to her close friends that she had an itty, bitty crush on her professor, he spoke about things no one else did, challenged her way of thinking and last but not least was immensely good-looking, it especially didn’t help that he often dropped something during their lessons and took forever to bend down and pick it up again, she wasn’t the type to ogle men, but his figure was so clear through his shirts and tight trousers, that plus the maturity hanging around him made him a very attractive man.
“Your very first task is personification” brushing a hand through his hair, he took a seat upon his desk “In simple terms that means providing humanistic qualities to those objects that aren’t human, an example would be: ‘The shadow of the moon danced’, a shadow cannot dance, but a human can”. Clearing his throat, he began to hand out papers to each student, “Can you feel the love tonight by Elton John has a vast selection of things personified, find me three, analyse them and get them back to me for the next lesson”. Holding out a bowl, he mixed his hand between the scraps of paper “Within this bowl are some of your numbers, the other half of you will pick one out” he eyed them carefully, “This will be your partner for the rest of the semester, an unknown partner, no names will be given, but by their words and the way they text, you must analyse them and come to a conclusion about who you think they are and why, that will be your final year project, any questions?”
“Is your number in there, Sir?” A woman batted her lashes, a flirtatious smile on her dark red lips.
“No, Sammy” he sighed, eyes almost rolling back at her comment. “This is a student assignment, I am the teacher” he’d spent a few years here and over that time had managed to have a class filled with majorly women every year, though he didn’t exactly understand the fascination, he did try to shape their minds away from their initial reasoning of joining towards the beauty of English Language, sometimes he failed, others he didn’t and Sammy was one of those people he would definitely have no luck straying from her motives.
“But, you told us that when you are teaching this class you are also learning from us, wouldn’t that also make you a student?” She rounded the table “I think it would be unfair for you not to put your number in” pouting up at him, her ocean eyes glimmered.
Gritting his teeth, he handed her a number “That isn’t how it works, please go and sit down” he ordered.
Mishti huffed loudly as she waited for everyone else to take a number, she really wasn’t looking forward to messaging an absolute stranger just for a grade, she purposely made a habit of staying as far away as possible from her classmates purely because they were all either childish, scandalous or both.
“Oh, Mishti” Abir frowned down at her, “I’m afraid there isn’t any numbers left”.
“Oh it’s okay, I can just do something else” sighing with relief, she grabbed her bag.
“Ah, ah, not that easy” he held out a folded piece of paper, “I found one last one, was on the floor”.
“Great” she stuck her thumb up, her grin far too wide.
Laughing boyishly at her, he leant back against the wall “It won’t be as bad as you think, you may find yourself surprised” though he knew that wouldn’t be the case, she was heads above the class and wasn’t going to ever fit in with a group of people that didn’t take their studies seriously like she did.
“I doubt it, Sir, but thank you” tucking it into her purse, she waved as she left.
Falling back into his seat, he opened up the database update system ready to key in his new phone number- this was the fifth new phone this year and it was only March, he had a horrid tendency of smashing his phone into unfixable parts every other weekend by some accident or another- searching his pockets, his brows furrowed “Where is it?” Ruffling in his blazer pockets, he held his forehead as the bowl came into his line of sight “Shit” he whispered.
If you haven't already, please check out my other Mishbir fics
For an Agent fic on Mishbir check out Shades Of Onyx And Ruby on Wattpad
For an ex Detective falling for a blind painter fic on Mishbir check out Opalescent
For an arranged marriage Mishbir fic check out Winter's Widow
For a story of love found again after memory loss fic check out Whispered Echoes
Part 2~ Page 2
Part 3~ Page 3
Part 4~ Page 4
Part 5~ Page 6
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