Page 14 of Cursed By the Love Witch

“My grade and your demeanor towards me in this class state otherwise.”

He cringes at my words.

“I realize now I may have been overly harsh on you. Allow me to rectify that.”

I hold my breath as he walks past me and towards his desk. Reaching into the mess of drawers, he pulls a stack of papers and beckons me over. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I follow. He sets out the parchment, and I pick one up, recognizing it immediately.

“My old exams.”

He nods, tucking a longer piece of dark hair behind his pointed ear.

“I wanted to offer you the opportunity to retake your old exams and improve your grade before the end of the semester.”

I sketch a brow.

“I appreciate that, but if I couldn’t pass them before when the lesson was fresh, I don’t know what good retaking them now would do.”

Bael runs a long finger over the front of one of my old tests. I observe him, noting the color dancing on his cheeks. Surely, the formidable High Warlock isn’t blushing.

“I offer to reteach you the subjects one-on-one. We’d meet daily to review each lesson, and then I’d let you retake the tests.”

It’s the second time in the last ten minutes Bael has rendered me speechless. It can’t be that easy. I was desperate to change my grade—so desperate that I concocted a sleeping potion to solve my problems. Now, I’m being allowed to fix them properly.

“That’s very generous of you,” I whisper.

He glances up at me, his eyes swimming with hope.

“Maybe then you would be more willing to let me prove myself.”

“Prove yourself?”

“I’m not very good at this, so I’ll just come out and say it.” He straightens his spine and pins me with a warm stare. “I like you, Darcee. I’d be honored if you allowed me the chance to show you just how much.”

My mouth falls open. Of all the things he could’ve said, I never expected that. Who is this male, and who replaced my hard-ass necromancy professor with him? There is an eagerness to him—an almost boyish-like whimsy to his gaze. That stiff demeanor has melted away, and now all that’s left is the male underneath it all. A male I don’t think many have seen.

“I’m sorry I came on so strong before.” His violet eyes darken. “Seeing you in here—it did something to me. Since last night, I realized I’m done hiding how I’ve felt for you. I had to tell you the truth.”

“The truth—that you like me,like me?” I ask.

“Very much. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why?” I repeat. “Well, for one, you’ve been nothing but cold and dismissive to me since I stepped foot in your class. Not to mention, it’s highly inappropriate for us even to be having this conversation. You're my professor. If anyone overheard us, we’d be in trouble.”

“You’re more than worth the risk,” he says. “But I understand its optics do look bad. You’re graduating in a few weeks. I can be discreet until then.”

He clears his throat.

“That is, um, again, all depending on you. If you feel nothing for me, my offer to help with your grade still stands. Just tell me now, and we’ll never have to speak of this again. I swear to you.”

I take in this confusing male before me. His eyes are clear, yet there is a feverish intensity to him. What has brought on this sudden change? It would be easier to believe he was replaced by some unknown twin than to accept that my surly necromancy professor is capable of feelings, wildly romantic feelings for me, that have seemingly manifested overnight.

It’s almost like?—

My stomach tips and bile crawls up my throat. I look at him, really look at him. The flushed skin, the sparkling eyes, the frenzied energy. All the signs are there. Normal people wouldn’t pick up on them, but I do. It’s my job to see them—and, more importantly, make them appear.

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