The Professor's Late Night Call

BELLA'S POV

After walking for approximately three minutes, I finally arrived at the dormitory that I shared with Sandra. As I turned the doorknob and entered, I discovered Sandra reclining on her bed, engrossed in her phone. However, the instant her gaze met mine, she promptly set her phone down and sat upright, her expression curious and inquisitive.

"So, how did it go?" She inquired as I made my way fully into the room and took a seat beside her.

"Sandra, you won't believe what transpired at the new professor's office," I began, and she furrowed her brow, her interest clearly piqued.

"And what happened?" She questioned, her voice laden with anticipation.

I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts before I confessed, "The professor and I shared a kiss in his office."

Sandra's eyes widened in utter disbelief upon hearing those words.

"You...you and the professor kissed?" Sandra gasped.

"Yeah," I responded with an exuberant grin.

In the wake of my revelation, Sandra sat there, her astonishment palpable, her mind seemingly racing to process this unexpected turn of events. I could see a whirlwind of thoughts churning in her mind as she tried to come to terms with the shocking revelation.

After a moment of silence, she finally found her voice. "I can't believe it. You and the professor? How did that even happen?" Her eyes were still wide with disbelief.

I leaned back and recounted the events that had transpired earlier that day. "It was after I went to see him in his office, and we ended up having a deep conversation. It was so intense and passionate, and before I knew it, we just...kissed."

Sandra's initial shock gave way to a mixture of curiosity and concern. "But, isn't that against university policy? Student-teacher relationships are usually not allowed, right?"

I nodded in agreement with Sandra, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. "Yes, it's a clear violation of university policy. That's what makes this even more complicated. But there's more."

Sandra's curiosity was piqued, and she leaned in closer, her eyes locked onto mine. "What else could possibly make this situation even more complex?"

Taking a deep breath, I continued, "The professor... he's my mate."

Sandra's eyes widened once again, this time with a different kind of surprise. "Your mate? What do you mean? Are you saying he's your soulmate?"

I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, exactly. We both felt an inexplicable connection, a deep bond, and it turns out we're mates. It's as if fate brought us together."

Sandra was left momentarily speechless, absorbing the magnitude of this revelation. "I can't believe this. It's like something out of a novel or a movie. But what does this mean for you, for your relationship with the professor?"

I sighed, my emotions in turmoil. "That's the dilemma, Sandra. On one hand, we have this incredible connection, and on the other, we have the university's strict policies against student-teacher relationships. It's a complex situation."

Sandra looked at me, her concern deepening. "So, what do you want to do, knowing this? Do you plan to keep it a secret, or are you going to confront the professor about it?"

I chuckled at her question, knowing that the situation had taken an unexpected twist. "Come on, Sandra. The professor already knows, and that's actually what led to the kiss in his office."

Sandra's eyes widened once more, clearly surprised by this revelation. "Wait, he knew about the mate bond before the kiss? How is that even possible?"

I nodded, explaining the professor's perspective. "He had felt the connection too, and he wanted to discuss it with me. That's why he invited me to his office today. The kiss, it was... inevitable, in a way."

Sandra seemed to be processing this information, a mixture of curiosity and concern on her face. "So, what's his stance on all of this? Is he willing to risk his career for this connection?"

I sighed, realizing that the professor's position was equally complex. "I'm sure he also understands the implications of our relationship, and we both know the risks involved."

Sandra looked at me with a supportive expression. "This is one complicated situation, but you're not alone in it. We'll figure it out together. What's next? Are you two planning to talk more about how to navigate this?"

I nodded, grateful for Sandra's support. "Yes, he invited me to a party he'll be hosting at his house in two days' time. He said he wants to get to know me better, but I haven't accepted his invitation yet."

Sandra's frown deepened, and she seemed puzzled. "And why haven't you accepted his invitation?"

I hesitated, weighing my words carefully. "It's because I'll be swamped with schoolwork and tests on that day. I'm worried that I might not make it to the party, and I don't want to make a promise I can't keep."

Sandra couldn't hide her frustration as she exclaimed, "Bella, I feel like smacking some sense into you right now! This is your mate we're talking about, not just some random person. This is the same mate you've been waiting for your whole life, and now that you have the chance to get closer to him, you're considering ruining that opportunity?"

Her words hit me like a wake-up call. Sandra was right. I had been presented with an extraordinary chance to connect with my mate on a deeper level, and my hesitation was driven by fear and academic concerns.

Sandra continued, her voice softening with understanding. "Bella, I know this situation is overwhelming, but you can't let fear hold you back. You've been waiting for you mate for five good years, and now that you've found him, grab every opportunity you have to get closer to him and let him mark you as his mate."

She was right. I couldn't let schoolwork and tests stand in the way of nurturing a bond as rare and profound as the one I shared with the professor. I nodded, determination welling up within me. "You're right, Sandra. I need to accept the invitation and make time for this. I can't afford to let this opportunity pass by."

Sandra smiled, relieved by my change of heart. "That's the spirit, Bella. We'll figure out a way to balance your academics and your personal life. And who knows, this might be the beginning of something extraordinary."

With a renewed sense of purpose, I decided to accept the professor's invitation and take the next step in this complex journey, uncertain of where it would lead, but determined to embrace the unique connection I had discovered.

"Alright, then. It's time to prepare dinner," Sandra said, her voice full of practicality as she shifted from our intense conversation to more immediate concerns. I nodded in agreement, appreciating her ability to bring a sense of normalcy to the moment. "You're right, Sandra. Let's get started on dinner."

As we moved to the kitchen and started gathering ingredients and cookware, the aroma of our meal gradually filled the room, blending with the lingering complexities of my newfound connection with the professor.

While we cooked together, our conversation transitioned to lighter topics, offering a brief break from the weight of the decisions I would soon need to make. In that shared moment, I felt grateful for Sandra's unwavering support and her ability to ground me in the midst of life's most convoluted challenges.

After an hour of cooking, Sandra and I sat at the dinner table, savoring the food and engaging in casual conversation. We finished eating.some minutes later and we both cleared the table.

After we cleared the table and tidied up the kitchen, I made a decision. "I think I'm going to take a shower before I go to bed. It'll help me clear my mind and relax a bit."

Sandra nodded in agreement, understanding the need for some personal time. "That sounds like a good idea, Bella. Take your time, and remember, I'm just in the next room if you need anything."

I appreciated her support and reassurance, and with a sense of determination, I headed to the bathroom.

As I stepped into the shower, the warm water cascaded down like a gentle rain, soothing my tired muscles and washing away the stress of the day. The steam filled the enclosure, wrapping me in a comforting cocoon of warmth.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, letting the water run over my face and down my body. The steady rhythm of the shower created a soothing white noise, drowning out the outside world. With each drop that splashed against my skin, I felt a sense of renewal, as if the water were washing away not just the dirt and grime but also the weight of my worries.

The scent of my favorite shower gel, a blend of fresh citrus and subtle floral notes, filled the air. It was as if the fragrance itself was a balm for my senses, revitalizing me with every breath. The shower gel lathered into a creamy foam, cleansing both body and spirit.

With each passing minute, the revitalizing shower invigorated me, and I could feel the stress and tension melting away. It was not just a physical cleanse but a mental and emotional one as well. As I stood under the warm stream, I felt reenergized.

As I was preparing to step out of the bathroom, my phone's sudden and unwelcome intrusion disrupted the peaceful post-shower serenity. The unexpected and jarring sound reverberated through the room, jolting me from my tranquil state of mind. It didn't take long for me to realize that I had carelessly left my phone in another room.

In a moment of frustration, I muttered to myself, "Ugh, my phone!" The interruption had momentarily flustered me, like a hiccup in an otherwise perfect moment.

Without any hesitation, I raised my voice, calling out to Sandra in the living area, "Sandra, could you please assist me with my phone? It's ringing!"

Sandra, who had been occupying the living room, heard my plea and promptly got up to help. She made her way into my bedroom, retrieved my phone from the bedside table, and then made her way over to the bathroom door.

I carefully cracked open the bathroom door, extending my hand to retrieve the phone. "Thanks, Sandra. I wonder who could be calling at this hour."

Sandra handed me the phone with a curious look, and I quickly glanced at the caller ID as I answered the call. My curiosity was piqued, and I couldn't help but wonder who might be trying to reach me at this late hour. As I saw that the number calling me was completely unfamiliar, my brows furrowed in confusion.

I hesitated briefly before answering the call, bringing the phone to my left ear. In a moment of silence, I patiently awaited the caller's opening words.

A deep, masculine voice finally broke the silence, "Hello, beautiful Bella?"

My heart raced with a mixture of emotions the moment I recognized Professor Blake's voice, as if the past and present had collided in a surreal, heart-pounding encounter.

"Professor Blake?" I stammered, the name escaping my lips as I attempted to grapple with the shock of hearing his voice.

"I'm delighted that you recognize my voice, sweetheart," he responded with a tone that oozed confidence and familiarity.

"But how did you get my number?" I inquired, my voice quivering with a hint of suspicion, all the while moving from the bathroom towards my bedroom. His ability to reach me at this hour, through an unfamiliar number, was puzzling and unsettling.

"You don't need to concern yourself with that," he replied in a cryptic manner, a note of intrigue dancing in his words. "I have my own ways of acquiring what I desire."

With the towel now barely clinging to my frame, I placed the phone on my shoulder, resting my ear against it, and reached for my nightwear, attempting to regain some semblance of control over the unexpected situation.

However, his provocative command shattered any pretense of composure I had left. "Don't put on that nightwear yet, Bella," he breathed into the phone, a potent mixture of desire and anticipation lacing his voice. My heart skipped a beat, and the room seemed to close in around me, every sound heightened, every sensation magnified.

I cast a frantic, wide-eyed glance around the room, as if searching for an explanation. How did he know that I was about to put on my nightwear? The question echoed through my mind as I stood there, vulnerable and exposed, the nightwear slipping through my fingers, pooling at my feet like a forgotten promise.

Inquiring with a puzzled tone, I queried, "Could you please repeat what you said?" My intention was to verify whether I had correctly perceived his words or if my ears had suddenly gotten dysfunctional.

"I said don't put on that nightwear yet, Bella. You look too beautiful in your naked form." He replied, and I felt my head spinning.