New story. Hope you like. Thanks to @ontheseaandfaraway for the prompt. If you like, hit the like or the reblog.

I remember when we first met. It was in an economics class. You were 22, a senior. I was 26, the professor. You wore a red skirt and a black top and when you raised your hand to ask me a question for the 14th time that day, I thought, “This girl is trouble.”

And you were. Ever since. You’ve been trouble but mainly the good kind. The kind men start wars over. The kind men travel great distances just to see. The kind that hooks into you and spins you around and doesn’t let go until you are shaken and stirred and completely lost in your own mind.

I remember our first date. It was two years later. You were in grad school then. I had taken a semester off to write my book. The first of many attempts to write a novel that never panned out. I saw you at that sandwich shop near campus, and you asked if I remembered you, and I said of course I did. You were one of my favorite students. And you smiled and flashed those eyes and did that shy thing with your hair and all the thoughts I had shoved down into my soul came bubbling up.

We ate and laughed, and I asked you if you had seen the exhibit at the Mercantile, and you said no. So we went. And then I bought you dinner. And you laughed more. And by the time I walked you home and gave you a hug and asked you if I could see you again, I knew … everything. It was over.

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