Paint Me, Professor | Student-Professor Erotic Novel | 18+ | ✔️

59 - Birth

Alison
***

After seeing Chris, finals week became much more manageable. Even though I stayed away from his apartment, I noticed he was making the effort to find me throughout week at Evergreen. He went to the packed full art studio to check on me, claiming that he was there to speak to Professor Agnes. He stopped me in the corridors even if I was with friends and asked politely how the week was going. He even found me in the library, pretending to be searching for some book.

His presence wasn't a distraction at all. In fact, it provided some much needed motivation in my stressful routine. I even stopped obsessing over my art portfolio: if Chris believed in me, I knew I'd do alright.

The Art History exam was on Monday, and it was a relief to get it done and dusted at the beginning of the week so I could focus on the portfolio until Friday.

Chris only called me after dinner the day of the exam to ask how it went. Unlike most of our phone calls, we spoke for almost an hour, and only a quarter of it was spent talking about the exam.

We spoke about my portfolio and Chris shared some stories of his time when he was going through the same. He also asked me when my flight back home was, telling me he wanted to take me to the airport. He to know what I'd do there, the people I'd see, the parties I'd go to. I asked him the same, and in true Chris style, he kept the answers short. He's basically spend Christmas with his family and New Years with Kent.

We also talked about Gary and his collection. Even he was no longer a student with exams approaching, his anxiety was just as intense, and Chris agreed. Kent had to have his collection completed before Christmas, and he was making David and I work really hard. I was feeling the pressure too. After all, even though the collection was his, I felt like it was my own in a small way.

After that awful argument between Chris and Kent, things indeed did change and I became much more involved in the creation and brainstorming of the pieces. For that reason, I could see little parts of myself in the artworks, and it made me immensely proud.

David, on the other hand, wasn't as motivated as I was. He complained that Gary made us work extremely long hours and he didn't put as much effort as we did. I disagreed, but chose to support him with encouragement. After all, we were a team, and together we'd reach the finish line.

We said our goodbyes, Chris reminding me to not stress for the billionth time.

"I'm not stressed!" I exclaimed. "But if you keep saying that I will."

He laughed. "Is that a threat? If you show up at my door tonight I'll leave you in the lobby."

I clicked my tongue. "As if you could say no to me."

He paused and I heard him lick his lips. "Depends on what you're wearing."

I gasped, exaggerating shock. Chris just chuckled, apparently proud of himself for the lame joke.

"Alright, enough teasing. Go to bed Miss Bardot."

I made a kissing sound. "Good night Professor."

***

On Wednesday, I had a long night ahead at the studio since we were reaching the final stretch. Kent, being the disorganized boss that he was, sent us messages throughout the day with things we had to do when we got to the studio. Needless to say, David was losing his mind.