Viktor Andrews lost his wife.
It was a Thursday night, the fourth day of the spring semester. He was an English Professor at Tidetown College, had been for four years, and he was grading when he got the call. It was so unexpected, he laughed right in the face of the tragedy. "You have the wrong number. My wife is getting her hair done."
He can't remember much after that. After identifying her body, he got blackout drunk off of her coronas and strawberry Smirnoff. He took time off of work the next day and went on a drinking binge, crying and puking his way through an entire week. It was the darkest period of his life. He felt like a piece of himself was ripped off; he'd feel her arms around him in the middle of the night like a phantom limb, invisible but there, loving him beyond the grave. After that, he felt a void begin in his chest. It grew and grew until it swallowed him whole, completely numbing him. Apathy took over, and nothing was the same again.
That is, until her.
It was March when the new student arrived. Daisy's golden blonde hair, freckles, small stature and green eyes made his breath catch in his throat. She could've been Bella's sister with how strikingly similar they looked. Suddenly, he no longer felt like a corpse with a heartbeat, waiting and waiting for his life to be over. He felt life in his veins and a skip in his step, itching all day until he could see her again. She was an English Major, so he lent her his copy of East of Eden. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but all of the sudden it seemed her shirts were getting lower and tighter by the day, and that she was smiling at him more frequently, big eyelashes batting in his direction as she chewed her gum with her mouth open, bouncing her leg up and down like she had too much energy for her own good.
She was in his dreams and in his thoughts when he stroked his cock. He knew he should be thinking of Bella, but whenever he pictured her now, she was rotting in that fucking coffin and the numbness threatened to creep in again. It was much better to think of his student, as problematic as it was. To think of her spearmint breath, plaid skirts and high-heeled shoes. He wanted to ravage her, pin her down and consume her until she was crying out his name. Would she be a quiet moaner or loud and proud? Would she cream or would she squirt?
He swore to keep his feelings hidden, to secure the secrets of his perverted heart under lock and key...
But as fate would have it, he didn't have to fantasize for long.
*****
A pink bubble popped outside Daisy's red lips. "Do you think Andrews is cute?"
Alec stopped talking. He was her closest friend on campus, a sweet football player who was smitten with her. She knew he'd be biased, but had asked, anyway. He looked shocked at the question. "What?"
"I mean, you're bi, so you--"
