The Forbidden Love of Aesop Sharp

Chapter 39 - An Excruciating Class

I stood in the dimly lit potion classroom, morning sunlight filtering through the dusty windows, casting long shadows across the floor. The frustration from last evening still clung to me like a heavy cloak, weighing me down, irritating me to no end.

Pacing back and forth, the sound of my footsteps echoed off the stone walls, each step a reminder of the interruption that had left me feeling unsatisfied and resentful. Glancing around the room, I couldn't help but notice the remnants of our interrupted encounter – a disheveled table and the coat she left besides the door when she left hastily.

Anger flared within me at the memory of how everything had gone so wrong. How could fate be so cruel as to deny me what I desired most? Clenching my jaw, a deep frown etched upon my features, I tried to push aside the lingering frustration, but it gnawed at me, festering like a wound that refused to heal.

Reluctantly, I turned my attention to the day ahead. There were lessons to teach, students to instruct – distractions that I begrudgingly welcomed, if only to escape the turmoil of my own thoughts. But deep down, I knew that no matter how busy I kept myself, the memory of last night would continue to haunt me, a constant reminder of my unfulfilled desires and the frustration that gnawed at my soul.

Despite my efforts to focus on the tasks at hand, my mind kept drifting back to the events of the previous evening. The memory of her flushed cheeks, her whispered pleas, the raw desire that had pulsed between us – it was all too vivid, too tantalizingly close yet painfully out of reach.

I shook my head, trying to dispel the memories that threatened to consume me. But they clung to me like shadows, refusing to be banished by mere force of will. The frustration that simmered beneath the surface only grew with each passing moment, a relentless tide threatening to overwhelm me.

As the first students began to trickle into the classroom, I forced myself to adopt a semblance of composure, plastering on a mask of professionalism to conceal the turmoil raging within. But behind the facade, the irritation simmered.

Throughout the lessons, I found myself snapping at students, my patience worn thin by the relentless onslaught of questions and inquiries. Every sound grated on my nerves, every interruption a painful reminder of the chaos that had disrupted my carefully laid plans.

The day had been particularly rough; returning from the holiday, the students always seemed to struggle to readjust to their work habits. But this time, with my dwindling patience and the fact that I had almost exclusively first and second years, it was even more challenging. I found myself raising my voice far more often than I would have liked, and I had to contend with an alarming number of disasters.

Even during Garreth Weasley's time, I couldn't recall so many cauldrons exploding. The situation was so dire that I had to postpone one of my classes, with the seventh years, until after dinner, in order to clean up the classroom and, more importantly, to take some time to collect myself and calm down.

I even made the choice to skip dinner that day, feeling too mentally drained to attend such an event. The thought of the noise and commotion only added another layer of stress to my already exhausting day, and I couldn't bear the idea of meeting Katie in that state.

There was nothing I would love more than to be close to her, holding her in my arms and enjoying her presence. But if I allowed myself to even entertain the possibility of being with her, I wouldn't survive the rest of the evening.

So, I remained secluded in my office, Katie's coat on my lap, my fingers absentmindedly brushing the fabric of the sleeve as my thoughts wandered to all the things I wished I could do to her. Thinking about her only fueled my frustration further. If it weren't for the events of the day, I would have spent the night with her, burying myself inside her to make her mine. I was certain she was sharing the same frustration I was feeling, and the fact that I couldn't satisfy her in such a vulnerable moment was driving me mad.