PANKO

Your eyes would fall on him every time the two of you would be in the library together. He was handsome, yes, but there was also just something about him that was naturally eye-catching. He was always well-dressed, which wasn’t completely uncommon among university students, but his style in particular caught your interest. He seemed put-together. Organized and professional. 

You thought about talking to him a few times, but just never found the right opportunity. Not to mention that as pretty as he was, he had an air about him that was intimidating. 

You didn’t expect him to be the one to talk to you first. 

“Excuse me, but I simply must know your name. I see you here so often I feel as though we are already well-acquainted.” His voice is smooth, and you can’t help the warmth that rises in your cheeks. 

“Y/n,” you answer, closing the book that you had been reading. “And yours?” 

“Vincent Fabron.” The name sounds awfully familiar but you can’t seem to place it. “Do you mind if I sit?” He gestures to the seat across from you.

“Go ahead.” 

He sits down, and the two of you keep talking. It’s a good thing that you didn’t have any classes this afternoon because there was no way that you would have been going to them. 

Vincent was smart and well-spoken. He seemed to be really interested in artistic design but said that he had majored in some branch of engineering. He was actually here to give a collection of guest lectures during the semester which had surprised you. He seemed fairly young to be a professor, given the fact that you had thought he was a student. Granted, he wasn’t an official professor, just asked to come in given his profession and his academic success. It was still impressive, regardless. 

As much as he liked talking about his own achievements, he also seemed to take a genuine interest in your studies. Asking you about them and asking questions about your favourite classes. The conversation eventually drifted past school and the two of you ended up just talking about anything. If you had known talking to him would have felt this natural and easy, you would have done it much sooner. 

“It might not be your thing, but I have a lecture in ten minutes. Would you like to sit in for it and then perhaps we could get something to eat after?” 

“Of course.” You smile, and the two of you start to gather up your things. 

He leads you down the hall, and you notice how a few other students seem to be surprised to see the two of you together. Some of them seem to look almost scared of Vincent, which almost made you laugh given how sweet he seemed to be. 

Once you get to the lecture hall, he gestures for you to pick out a seat as he sets up at the front of the room. It’s one of the larger auditoriums, which you suppose makes sense given that since it's a limited-time class that they would attempt to get as many people in as they could. There are only a few people in there when you first arrive, but it quickly fills up the closer it gets to start time. Vincent is still looking down at the laptop in front of him, setting up a slideshow. 

The moment the clock reaches 3:20, he gives you a small smile before he begins to speak loudly. 

“Alright, I am sure that all of you have read the assigned reading and are ready to begin.” He smiles at them, and unlike the smile he gave to you, this one seems almost mean. You realize very quickly the type of professor that he is and the reason why so many of the students seemed to shy away from his gaze. 

He teaches quickly, he doesn’t spend much time on each slide, pausing only for a moment to see if anyone has any questions before moving on. Even though it's a bit hard to keep up, you get the impression that he’s good at what he does. He does seem to enjoy keeping his students on edge by asking a question every now and then and scanning the crowd as they fidget nervously. 

He picks someone at random sometimes, and there’s a sigh of relief from the crowd that only lasts until the next time he decides to ask a question. 

Now you realize why you had recognized the name. It was because you had overheard someone complaining about the class while you were studying in the library. They claimed that he was a difficult professor, one that would give a surprise quiz nearly every class and always seemed to know if you missed a class without sending him an email to let him know. 

You would be lying if you didn’t find the way he spoke with such clear authority at least a bit attractive. Every now and then you would notice how his gaze would turn to you for a moment, and you swear you see him smirk before he returns back to teaching. 

You’re glad that you aren’t taking this class because you’re certain that you wouldn’t be able to focus on anything other than the way his arms flex as he grabs at his sleeves and rolls them up, pushing them up and out of his way. The way his fingers move deftly to unbutton the cuff and fold the material. You know he catches you staring when he does it, and you wonder if that’s completely the reason he did it in the first place. 

“Alright, that’s it for today. Please find the assigned reading for the next class on the syllabus, and do your best to read it. I was feeling generous today, so I didn’t quiz you. Next time you might not be so lucky.” This is the first class that you’ve seen wait until the professor has completely finished speaking before they start packing up. But they do so very quickly once he’s done and beginning to pack up as well. You get up and walk over beside him to wait as the last of the students leave. The door closes behind the last of them, leaving the two of you alone with a reverberating thud. 

He looks at you with that same smirk you saw earlier as he leans against the desk. 

“It’s a good thing you aren’t in this class,” he seems to echo your earlier thoughts. “You are quite the distraction.” You notice him glance down at your lips for just a fraction of a second, and you flush. 

“Is that right?” You tease as you step closer to him. 

He hums as he places a hand on your hip. 

“Yes, it’s quite hard teaching when I can only think of something far more interesting I would rather be doing at this desk.” His grip tightens on your hip and you gasp softly. “I believe I promised you dinner, shall we go?”