23 Years Earlier...

༻ Livia ༺

Whispers of autumn trickled into the the campus trees, seizing their roots and steadily repainting the leaves to a sickly, earthy brown hue. A young woman adorning a cream woolly sweater and red skirt stood under one of the oak trees, her blossom-coloured eyes gazing upward into the sky. A crack of sunlight peered through the clouds as though highlighting a glimmer of hope in her choice of path. Livia's mother hadn't approved of her going to college, then again, her mother didn't approve much these days. Livia knew that she couldn't allow herself to be forever held back by that bitter woman. She would be different to her mother. Better.

The distant resonance of a bell returned Livia to her senses. She glanced at the nearby clock tower, flushing with panic as she realised her creative writing class was about to begin at any moment. Clutching her bag, she dashed over to the assigned building, her boots slipping slightly against the fallen wet leaves. She squeezed past the crowds of other students piling into the lecture halls, apologising profusely for every bump and push she caused. Livia preferred to be polite and punctual to each of her classes. After all, she wasn't just there to learn, she was there to prove something; to prove her worth both to herself and to her overly critical mother. But this class, in particular, was one Livia valued above all else and, thus, she absolutely refused to miss a single part of it.

It was Mr. Oakes class. Her favourite teacher and a locally renowned author. She entered the hall, squeezing her books close to her chest as she anxiously scanned the room for available seats. Two of her friends waved her over patting the chair next to them. A relieving sight. Livia scooted over to join them.

"Did I miss anything?" she whispered.

"Nope. Just the hottie teacher talking about his latest book again."

"So I did miss something!"

Livia sighed, and watched the handsome thirty-something-year-old introduce his lesson to the room. He perched on the edge of his desk, legs crossed, and began discussing the fundamentals of storytelling. He was one of the few professors of the creative writing course that actually had the ability to keep the class captivated and active. He went out of his way to learn and understand each of his students' thoughts and perspectives on things, even using his own free time off work to look over any extra creative writing pieces submitted to him. It was one of the few things Livia adored about him. Not only was he a good teacher, but he was passionate about what he taught. And that passion was only made clearer to her in his novels. Up to this moment, she had read every single one of his works several times over and kept an annotated edition of her favourite book by him with her at all times. It was an honour for her to be seated in the class of someone she idolised so dearly.

During a particularly interesting back and fourth debate between two students (of which Mr. Oakes was moderating), he made unexpected eye contact with Livia. It was a short passing glance, but to Livia, it felt like the whole world stood still. Nothing else mattered, nothing else existed. It was just the two of them with their gazes interlocked. Livia turned pink and immediately averted her eyes for a second before returning them to meet his charming grin. She smiled back shyly before he continued observing the heated discussion between his students.

"Oh my god. What was that?" One of her friends squealed in a hushed tone, nudging Livia with her elbow.

"That was like something out of a romance novel. He looked right at you and smiled!" The other whispered, grabbing Livia and shaking her wildly in her seat. Livia shook her head in disagreement, though a small part of her revelled in her friends' gushing.

"You guys are overreacting." Livia said gently, though the colour of her face spoke volumes. "He was just being nice. He always smiles like that to his students. He's a kind teacher after all."

"No way! That was different, girl, and you know it. He's totally into you! Look at that blush on your face."

"Did you not see that smirk? Waa I'm so jealous! Make sure you invite us to the wedding!"

"Stop teasing me! It's not like that." Livia's hands rose to conceal her flustered expression as her friends giggled to one another.

Although Livia copiously disagreed with her friends, she truly wanted to believe that it was true, that maybe the one person she admired the most in the world equally admired her back. Livia's hands reached to play with her long brunette hair, twirling it around her fingers as her mind sank deeper into fantasises. She knew deep down that it was too good to be true but her mind kept returning to that glimmer of sunlight peeking through the grey clouds, that small symbol of hope. Her eyes settled on the professor, lost in notions of lovesickness.