I stared in disbelief because I refused to believe what my 20/20 sight was seeing.

And yet, as I heard the quiet murmuring of the students around me and felt the not-so-faint pull in my heart, I knew sleep deprivation wasn't running a cruel prank on me. 

It was really him. Harry Xavier Devon was standing in my classroom.

"Good morning, class. My name is Professor Harry Devon," He begun, turning towards the chalkboard to write his name. "And I'll be your temporary substitute professor for math 2230 calculus 1 here at St. George Campus."

He was the fucking what now?

I watched as Harry stepped behind the teacher's desk and laid down his shoulder bag, pushing his glasses further up on his nose, getting ready to teach.

Blinking rapidly a few times, I slowly sat up straighter as my head tried to process what was happening in front of me. All the while my heart kept pounding harder and harder in my chest.

God... he was really here.

My eyes automatically slid over his familiar figure. They saw everything they had missed, but also searched for something new, as if that would somehow explain the impossible situation that was currently happening.

Scanning his brown pants and crisp white shirt with a brown tie I swore I'd untied before, everything about him looked painstakingly the same. His brown hair was combed neatly, and as always, he carried the ever calm demeanor about him that made me subtly press my lips together.

His dark hair looked every bit as contrasting to the amber eyes I knew would punch a hole in my chest the second they looked at me. His chiseled jawline was still taunt and getting firmer as the students kept whispering quietly, discussing their new famous professor.

I don't know why I expected him to look any different. After all, only two months had passed since I last saw him. Too short a time to offer any real significant changes.

And yet here he inexplicably was.

"Wait, Devon?" The girl sitting next to me suddenly whispered to the girl sitting on her right. I heard her surprised tone of voice as she- and all the others in the class probably realized who he was. "As in Harold Devon, the mathematical prodigy?"

The other girl covered her mouth as truth dawned on her too, both girls looking much more impressed than I had done the first time I heard of him. Then again, I had been a little preoccupied with other stuff back then.

Like fucking him and trying to have his baby.

"You've all been moved here because of the unfortunate fire that burnt down your science building, as I'm sure you are aware of," Harry spoke up, unaffected by the quiet whispering going through the entire classroom. He had turned towards his desk and was starting to pull stuff out of his bag. "And so during the next three months or so, you'll be taking your calculus classes here while the school rebuilds. Until then, you're going to proceed with the syllabus you were assigned to by Professor Cho, prior to getting here."

Despite his words, I still couldn't believe a word he was saying. The man who swore he'd never teach... was inexplicably in my classroom, telling us all he'd be our teacher for the next three months.

Just what the hell was actually happening?

"Now... regarding your syllabus, I'll do my best to pick up from where you left off," Harry continued speaking, lifting his eyes to look out at the crowd. I automatically froze in my seat and felt the air get stuck in my throat when his eyes slid dangerously close to where I was sitting. "However, there will be made a few changes to your normal change of pace as of today, starting with a few new rules."

"New rules?" Katie I think her name was, whispered confused next to me.

"Rule number one," Harry spoke, lifting his firm gaze to the crowd. "No electronics in my class."

"What?" Katie's friend voiced, just loud enough to draw Harry's attention to her. The rest of the class murmured a collective word of disapproval.

"And yes, that includes laptops," He firmly said, hearing the complaints rise in volume. "In my class, I demand your full attention and your very best effort. I want you to use your heads and your hands to take notes, and I will expect all of your work to be handed in handwritten with all of your notations included. I want to see real work, not electronic spreadsheets and PowerPoints. Upon the start of all future classes, I want you to pack away all electronics and bring only a notebook and a pencil case."

"Is he serious?" Katie exclaimed quietly, her friend scoffing beside her. "He can't be serious."

Oh, but I knew he was.

Staring down at Harry, I saw him looking into his papers as if nothing was out of the ordinary. His appearance didn't show any changes, but everything else did. The fact that he was here was proof enough of that.

He was here to teach; Teach, as in the one thing he swore never to do. The very thing I practically had to beg him to get him to do, and now he was here out of the blue to do just that?

– I simply didn't buy it.

And then there was the other matter. The matter that had originally shocked me, despite the prior. The matter that had set my heart off, pounding traitorously in my chest, and my mind racing to try and connect the obvious facts.

He had to know I was in this class. There was no way he didn't. He had paved the way for me himself, so of course he'd know where I was. He was keeping up the pretense, but there was not a doubt in my mind that... he knew.

He knew I was right here with him, in this class, in this room, watching him teach.

"Now," He started anew. He adjusted his glasses and picked up a piece of paper from his bag. "I see here you were working on limits and continuity before the fire occurred. I'd like to set up a test for you so that I may see where you're at and how much I need to push you on the subject. Yes?" He lifted his head when a student amongst the crowd had lifted his hand.

"How are we supposed to work if we don't have our laptops? All of our notes and stuff are on them," He told, in a tone that more than clarified what he thought the new class rule.

Harry straightened out and eyed out the student. "Name?"

"Aaron Finkel, sir."

"Well, Mr Finkel, unless you're hearing impaired, I assume you'll be able to listen to what I'm teaching you," Harry responded, turning his eyes down to his papers again. "Today that's all I'll demand of you, but in the future, I will demand more. Excellence is not a gift, it is a habit." He now lifted his head again, looking out at all of us. "I won't expect any of you to be excellent in my classroom, but I will demand that you try."

And it was with that, his eyes determinedly landed on me.

My breath hitched and my eyes widened, but just as expected, I saw no sign of surprise on his face. He looked straight at me for a hard moment, but then turned his eyes away again, as if I was simply just another student.

My mouth silently fell open.

"Any more questions?" He asked, looking at the rest of the class.

Only about a million.

Closing my mouth and swallowing dryly, I tried to compose myself as best as I could as he continued on with the class, asking all his students to start taking notes. I followed their lead mechanically, but couldn't pay attention to a word he said as class proceeded.

My mind kept racing as I watched him write on the board and talk about math, like him being there was anything but extraordinary. The shock slowly settled in my body, but the unanswered questions kept ringing more loudly than my heart was beating.

Why was he here? Why hadn't he told me he would be teaching my classes here? Why was he teaching at all?

By the time the class ended, I hadn't heard a single word. I had been too preoccupied trying to solve the riddle that was him being here to bother trying to solve the math he had presented on the board for us.

When the students started collecting their bags and trudging out, I lingered behind in my seat and watched as a few of the students stepped up to shake his hand like adoring fans – especially the girls. One even left her apple on his desk, and I had to suppress a roll of the eye as she smiled hopefully up at him. Not surprisingly, however, Harry merely smiled back reserved and dismissed her without a second glance.

I waited until the whole class had cleared before standing up myself and gathering my things. He was standing by his desk, gathering up his books as well when I started coming down towards him, unable to get rid of the ball of nerves that seemed to have culminated in my stomach.

The last time we spoke, he had told me to go.

And now he had followed me here.

"So..." I started slowly, clearing my throat when it came out hoarse. I tried for a little smile and raised a brow when he slowly stuffed his books away into his shoulder bag, avoiding my gaze. "You don't tutor, huh?"

His eyes didn't lift, but I noticed the subtle clench of his jaw as he packed away his papers. "Hello, Cassandra."

Hello, Cassandra. After two months, that was all he had to say to me? A monotonous greeting? He wasn't even going to address the fact that him being here was as crazy as seeing an elephant in Antarctica?

Much less acknowledge how we had left things last time we saw each other.

"What are you doing here?" I therefore started, flattening my lips irritatedly when he kept avoiding my gaze.

"Given the class we just had," He calmly replied, taking off his glasses and stuffing them into his breast pocket, "the answer should be fairly obvious."

Ever the sarcastic asshole. He really hadn't changed.

"I'm serious, Harry," I retorted, finally having enough of this. I deserved an answer. Actually, I deserved several. "Why the fuck are you here?"

He finally stilled in his movements. Slowly lifting his head, I tried to keep my cool as his ever calm amber eyes finally met mine and pierced me.

I tried not to show the effect his gaze had on me. His eyes took in my face, swept over my familiar features, seemingly caressing every inch of my face with his stare, until they finally landed on my lips. They automatically parted, my lungs deprived of air as I saw his pupils dilate slowly, watching me suck in a quick breath.

But then, as if snapping out of it, his eyes cut away and lowered. He continued from where he left off, stuffing more items into his bag.

"You wouldn't understand," He then simply answered.

"Excuse me?" I said, almost crossly. When he didn't give any indication he was going to respond, I crossed my arms. "What? You think I won't understand because I'm not your level of smart?"

"Don't twist my words, Cassandra. You know that's not it."

I knew it wasn't, but I just wanted to get a rise out of him. He was acting... strange and I wanted to know why. God, this whole thing was strange; him even being here, but even more so, him not having the curtesy to meet my fucking gaze.

"Then tell me. You swore you'd never teach, so why are you here, Harry?" I persisted.

A long silence followed, one wherein I saw him chew on something, his jaw flexing while he packed up his stuff. Then, with a hard sigh, he finally replied.

"I taught you," He said, cramming some papers into his bag with more force than needed. "I figured I might as well try with a larger crowd as well."

I stared. Did I have stupid written on my forehead? Harry must have seemed to think I did, because I know he didn't just expect me to believe that blatant lie, did he?

"Bullshit," I scoffed.

"I told you, you wouldn't understand."

My anger flamed higher at his calm words, but instead of listening to his obvious lie, I decided to play along for the hell of it.

"Alright. So you're saying I managed to change your mind about teaching and that is the only reason you're here?" I flatly reiterated. I didn't buy one word of it, and I was surprised Harry wasn't trying harder to cover it up. After all, he was a smart man, and the younger brother of one of the smoothest manipulators in the country; if he wanted to lie better, he sure as hell could have. But he wasn't. He also had to have known I wouldn't have bought it either way. Maybe someone else would, but not me.

I was one of the few people who knew better than anyone why he'd never teach.

"They call me every year to offer me a chance to teach here," Harry volunteered, now continuing to put the last of his books into his case. "I decline every year, but when Havers called this time around, I figured why not."

Lies. So many lies, and he wasn't even giving me the courtesy of looking me in the eye whilst telling them.

Still a fucking coward.

"That's it?" I therefore coldly replied when all he did was continue to avoid my gaze.

"That's it," He affirmed. And then his eyes finally looked up and met mine. "Why else would I be here?"

Ouch. And here I thought his brother was the cold, unfeeling asshole.

I pressed my lips together again to hide my pain, just as Harry lifted a brow, staring at me with zero to little emotion on his face. Not that he ever showed his emotions, of course.

"You're right," I therefore replied plainly, meeting his calm gaze with one of my own. "You have no other reason to be here."

Harry stared at me for only a moment longer, but then calmly lowered his eyes and continued packing up his things. "Exactly."

Something was way off. This much I knew as I watched Harry pack the last of his things, still avoiding my gaze. I couldn't figure out what had happened to make him lie like this, straight to my face, but one thing was obvious; He didn't want to be here, and the way his eyes kept averting from me made it obvious why.

He hated being here, because I was here.

I felt my throat clog up. Whatever he was hiding, I knew it was something he didn't want me involved in. But he was crazy if he thought I was going to just let this go. If he didn't want me to find out, he should've lied better.

"Well then..." I therefore said, chilling my voice and relaxing my posture. "I hope you enjoy it here then."

I felt the cold chill from his body as I uttered those words. There was no chance in hell he was going to enjoy himself here; he had just survived his own personal nightmare, stuck inside a room filled with youngsters obsessed with hashtags and addictions to cellphones and laptops.

Along with the woman he had sent away from his doorstep not two months ago.

"Thank you," He nonetheless replied in a polite voice.

He finally took his packed bag and then reached for the last item left on the table; the apple that the girl had left him.

Before he could reach it, though, I quickly moved and snatched it off the table.

His jaw clenched at my sneakiness, but I didn't care as I rubbed the apple against my shirt and watched him observe me, staring somewhere around my shoulder.

"I believe that apple was meant for me," He then spoke.

I chuckled silently, humorlessly, before biting into the apple with a crunch, just as I turned towards the door and started walking out. "But you never really did like apples, did you... Professor?"

And with that, I left him in the classroom, staring after me with what I knew was a burning gaze.

• • •

And we're off, ladies and gentlemen.