Dear Professor(100)

“Dear Professor,” I whispered against his lips. “I love you.”

“Xoxo, Darcy,” he said back, his fingers digging into me. “I love you too, sweet thing.”

“J,” I said, grinning.

He laughed then silenced himself by pressing his mouth firmly onto mine yet again.

And, that day, I learned something.

Dreams don’t have to come true for you to get your happily ever after. He had been my nightmare, yet he was the best thing that had ever happened to me. No matter how fucked up we’d started, how messy we were, my own personal boogeyman had become my sandman.

Because I was in love with him, the man who had once been my professor, who’d once graded my papers and slammed me against his office door. The man who’d made me come over his desk, who’d held me when I’d accidentally fell asleep on his sofa. It wasn’t a storybook romance. It wasn’t an epic love story that would still be talked about centuries from now, but it was ours.

It was our messy, forbidden, fucked-up love story.

I didn’t regret a second of it.