Forums » General Roleplay » Profs and Pretties (1x1)

Anna blinked in surprise. It all made so much sense! "Oh, wow. I never even noticed, I just thought that was your teaching style. Which I guess it is, but still!" When he mentioned doing any art now, she blushed and rubbed at her cheek again. "Um...kind of. I can't take any classes on it or anything. My parents are majorly against it. The whole 'there are millions of artists but only a couple thousand artists with jobs' thing." She stood up and went to fetch a notebook from the office, coming back and sitting down. The movie was playing by now, but she was more interested in him than Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy. She showed him some of the back pages, which were rather in-depth pencil drawings. "I can only do drawings in pencil or pen. Paints have a smell to them, so my parents could notice if I painted anything. And paintings are often bigger than a notebook, so it'd be hard for me to stash them somewhere that my parents wouldn't find."
She paused for a few long moments. "I've always dreamed about experimenting with media. I see so many amazing pictures out of paints, charcoal, even made from books or pieces of wood. I wish I could step beyond pens and pencils.."

His face grew more incredulous as she flipped through a few pages, but he shook his head that she had to hide it.

"They must be crazy," he uttered. "And I've seen paintings as small as business cards, but the larger ones do look more satisfying as a process." He considered something for a moment.

"You know if you can keep on with coursework, and can get ahold of some materials, you can leave them here. I mean...I can't give you lessons or anything. But you could leave your things here, practice after homework. If...if you'd want to. If it's not weird or anything."

Anna sighed a bit. "Crazy. Yep, that's them." She shook her head a little bit. "Business-card-sized paintings aren't satisfying at all. I don't know why anyone would want to make something so small. There's definitely not going to be any angels dancing on the head of a pin for me." She looked up at him when he suggested keeping her things at his house.
Again, he made her stare at him in disbelief. He was really willing to let her do that? "...really? Are you serious?" She shook her head a bit. Weird? Maybe it was weird, but then again this whole thing was weird! Students weren't supposed to be chilling at their teacher's house and watching Pride and Prejudice. "That...that would be pretty cool." She knew just how to get the money for the materials, too. Like she got money for anything else; snitching from her mother's purse.

He took the stare to mean it was, in fact, weird. He hadn't truly cared about a single student before, and it unnerved him. But with everything she was dealing with, and how little he used half of his house, he thought it might be good for her. The movie long-forgotten he nodded, serious indeed.

"I have a whole room - a couple of them really - that I'm not using. Or there's the basement. Might even be a sink down there. I know how important it is to have an outlet, so...I don't mind."

Anna listened to him and leaned back against the couch. She could start painting. She could actually start painting! When he mentioned an outlet, she lifted a brow at him. "Is throwing papers from tables your outlet?" If so, he should probably find a new one. That could get messy and even more frustrating. "You're sure you don't mind? I feel like I'm like...coming in and taking over your house, or something." She rubbed at her cheek again. She wasn't used to being shown so much kindness from a teacher.
"...I can go shopping tomorrow and get the stuff to bring it over, if you're sure." She knew exactly what she wanted. When she was bored, she would look up art supplies and stare at them longingly, daring herself to just try, just try, to hide it all from her parents and get away with it.
Anna gasped slightly and looked around for a clock. Her parents. How much time had gone past? They would be really pissed off, if they had stopped fighting and Anna wasn't there. "What time is it?" She got up and snatched her phone, turning it on. She sat down with a groan. "Great." Eight missed calls. Eight. All from the same number. "They're going to kill me."

He tried to laugh at her comment on throwing papers. "More of a bad habit, really. I used to write but...reading college essays eats up a lot of my time. I'm sure those stories are lurking around here somewhere. And yes...I'm sure. I'm on good terms with the art department. I could see if they have an extra easel or two to get you started. Those things are expensive! I broke one once, had to replace it." The movie had ended without much notice, and his watch told him she was close to breaking curfew, though her reaction could have said as much.

"Do you need a ride?" He asked. "I could drop you off down the block, so you don't catch flack for being dropped off by some guy."

Anna got up and started getting her notebook and such together, whatever she'd brought in with her to the livingroom. "Huh? Oh. Um, yeah, that'd be great, thanks." It would definitely make her break curfew if she had to walk, and walking alone at night definitely wasn't the smartest thing to do. She hurried into the office and cleaned up all her stuff, shoving it all in her backpack. "About the easel," she called back to him, "That would be really cool. But don't bother yourself about it, okay? I don't want to be a hassle or anything." He was doing an awfully lot for her, and she hadn't done anything to warrant the kindness.
She hurried back to the room with her backpack slung over her shoulder. "Ready?"

While she gathered her things he clicked off the tv and put on his shoes. He jingled his keys in response to his readiness, holding the door open for her and locking it behind them as they left. After some initial directions he spoke again, if with some difficulty.

"I don't just...hm. Everyone deserves a chance at their dreams. And you have talent. It...would be a shame if it went to waste."

He stopped at the corner she indicated, wished her goodnight and good luck before watching her walk off. He contemplated driving down her street to make sure she made it safely but figured this close to home she might be okay. And he couldn't cause her anymore problems.

Anna listened to him and rubbed her cheek with a finger again. "...well, thanks." She looked at Sebastian. He really wasn't that much older than her. Maybe ten years, or twelve? He couldn't be that much older. She had never realized it before, honestly. He was a teacher, things like 'age' and 'real life' didn't really apply to teachers. "Thanks for the ride." She got out of the car, hefting her backpack onto her back again. "I'll um...see you at class tomorrow, I guess." She shut the door, gave a slight wave, and headed home.
She got home to both parents waiting up for her, glaring at each other, and she knew she was screwed. Immediately an argument set in, and she was yelled at by both parents for turning off her cellphone. They treated her as if she was a child, and Anna was going crazy. The only reason she wasn't living on her own was because they were forcing her to be a full-time student, so she had no time to work and earn money to go off on her own.
Both parents were arguing, trying to prove they were the one most worried about her. Anna just excused herself by saying she was tired, and both parents started in at each other again, blaming the other for her not wanting to talk. Anna closed the door behind her and locked it, slumping down to the floor. After the peace and safety of Sebastian's house, coming back home nearly made her cry.
But she sucked it up, changed, and went to bed. The next morning, she was at class. She ended up dozing off a couple times, not even drawing being able to keep her awake. Her parents had been arguing nearly the entire night. If there was one thing to yell at each other about, they seemed to have covered it all.

He drove home in silence, having a distaste for radio and noise in general. He was far enough that he couldn't hear Anna's parents arguing, though he assumed that's what might happen as much as he wished against it. His mind set to analyzing his heart, and what was changing inside of it. How many of what students he'd had went through the same thing as she did, all without his noticing? Maybe few if any, since he'd only been at this a handful of years. Some had even been friendly with him, made an effort to maintain some sort of middle ground and relatability. One sorority member had even tried to seduce her way to an A, but he'd had no interest and held close the ethics of his position. If he began to care for Anna...she was clearly not as young as she looked, more advanced and mature than the rest besides...but if he could care for her, what would that mean for him? For his career? He shook his head, toying with his keys as he sat in his driveway.

He'd already rethought his teaching methods, but was that because of her or just the potential of being laid off? And wasn't it caring for someone new that usually arose so many questions? But didn't working under pressure do the same? Finally he went inside, picking up where he left off with his grading. Sleep evaded him as well, so Anna disn't really miss anything in class; rather than lecturing the entire time he gave reading assignments from the textbook she never read (or already had), linked everyone to the slides he'd prepared and let them do with the period what they would. Half of them left after he'd handed their papers back, the others lingered to read or join Anna in a nap but they still managed to leave before she awoke. Gently he tapped her desk, murmured her name. When that didn't wake her he tried to shake her shoulder.

"Anna? You okay?"

Anna shot up quickly with a gasp as he shook her shoulder, a look of fear on her face for a moment. And then she realized it was him. "Oh, sheesh, you scared me..." She leaned back, putting a hand to her heart for a moment and taking in a couple deep breaths. She shook the sleepiness from her head and looked around. "...is class over?" Oops. Her face held a guilty expression that she had slept through it. "I'm really sorry Professor Winters, I promise it won't happen again." She may not like class, but she wasn't the kind of disrespectful student to sleep through every class.
She gathered her papers together and stood up, rubbing her face a little. She couldn't believe she'd slept through class. "I'm really sorry.." She fidgeted nervously for a moment, knowing she was probably going to get some gentle lecture about sleeping in class.
She was anxious to get out, though. She was going to go shopping for supplies. She couldn't handle a lecture at the moment. She was feeling less than emotionally stable. Her parents had been arguing again today and the word 'divorce' kept popping up. But then they would both turn to her and ask which one she would want to live with until she got her own place (as if they would ever let that happen). But she HAD fallen asleep in class, so as much as she didn't want to, she stayed and waited for the reprimanding that she deserved.

He took a breath, intending in his tiredness and thusly shortened temper to ream her about keeping up, but couldn't find the energy to summon the words. He let it out in a huff, and remained brief.

"Yeah, just...make sure it doesn't happen again. I'll see you later?" It was half question, but he was too groggy to say more. Once he got home he tried to catch up on sleep, until his doorbell rang when Anna did show up.

Anna was surprised, but she nodded and hurried off to the store. It took her a couple hours to get to his home, knocking on the door. Her arms were laden with a heavy bag each of art supplies. "Hey. Umm...You said I could come over so here I am..." (srry short posting before class will be sble to respond in a half hour)

((No worries!))

He'd finally managed to fall into a comfortable slumber when she woke him up. As such he answered the door rather angrily, forgetting he'd been expecting her.

"WHAT?!" He exclaimed upon throwing open the door to hear her half-muttered greeting. "Oh. Yeah, come in." His voice sounded strained, and he shut the door behind her, grabbing his keys and showing her to a room upstairs. Too tired for manners, he hadn't offered to carry anything. There were two rooms off either side of the landing, and he unlocked the empty one for her. The other was a guest room, a third door the bathroom between it and the spiral stair to the also-locked attic. The room he led her into had once been a sewing room, though the only remaining evidence of that were the mannequin and sewing machine, plus the unfinished gowns in the closet. Otherwise, boxes of things he'd placed in here for storage lay beneath clear-surfaced (if dusty) tables.

"I'm g'na...make coffee," he said rather lamely before leaving her to set up her purchases. He'd completely forgotten the easel and hadn't yet realized it.

Anna stared at him when he opened the door so angrily. She just looked away and followed him up the stairs, silent until he grumbled something about coffee. "...okay." She waited until he left, then set down her bags. This was stupid. This was a mistake. She was no better off here than at home. She unpacked the art supplies, her heart a lead weight in her chest. He didn't want a bothersome student around. Of course he didn't. Why did she ever think that he might? Tears pricked at her eyelids. She didn't want to cry, she couldn't cry. But things were piling up inside her and it was getting too hard to hold in. Everything going on with her parents, and now Sebastian didn't want her around either. Did ANYONE want her around for anything other than yelling at her?
Anna set her paints out and looked around. No easel. He probably forgot. She wasn't surprised. She was starting to realize that the whole thing with him and his kindness had been too good to be true. She spotted the mannequin, however, and all her emotions just vanished. Light sparked in her eyes and she grabbed the paints and brushes, piling them all up next to the mannequin. Wooden or fabric, whichever it was didn't matter because either would hold the paint nicely. She paused, however. She should ask for permission. It wasn't hers, after all, and surely he didn't mean for it to be out there for her to paint. But that angry part of her fed off of her emotions and told her to just do it anyways.
She took in a deep breath, dunked the brush into red paint, and smeared it in a slash across the mannequin. Somehow, it felt like some of her anger had slid away, leaving with the red paint. She dipped the brush again, continuing in swift, even strokes. She knew exactly what she was doing, and any part of her that wanted to ask for permission was gone. She wanted to expand. And even if it meant getting in trouble with Sebastian, damnit she was going to expand.

As the coffee brewed, he rubbed his eyes, then gathered cream and sugar containers and set them out on the same tray. He prepped and drank some of his before climbing the stairs and stepping in the doorway.

"Hey I'm...sorry," catching sight of her handiwork his voice lowered. Buried in her fervent brushstrokes, he wondered if she heard him and set the tray on one of the tables near the door. Unsure of whether he could stay and watch, he glanced at her new supplies, already spotted with the paints she'd opened and was using. He wasn't angry about the mannequin, as much as he was surprised; its plain and forgotten fabric seemed more vibrant to say the least.

"I like it better this way, I think," he commented.

Anna registered his voice in her head, but she didn't slow her strokes until he commented. Then she paused, and glanced at him. The art was definitely more abstract, strange square and triangle blocks of different colors, but yet seeming to move perfectly with the contours of the mannequin. She looked at him for a few moments, then looked down at her feet. She wasn't going to apologize. She couldn't.
Now that she had stopped painting, her hand was shaking a little. "...thanks." She looked up at him for a moment, wanting to say something. Maybe tell him he didn't have to suffer her being around, or maybe make some jab at him about forgetting the easel. But nothing could come up. Her stomach still felt like a block of solid concrete.
And then suddenly her phone started vibrating in her pocket. It startled her so much that she dropped the brush, which splattered some paint around her and onto her. She fumbled for her phone and checked the caller ID. As soon as she saw who it was, she threw the phone to the other side of the room and knelt down to pick up the paintbrush and start cleaning up the splatters. Her cheeks were hot from the embarrassment that she was feeling at that moment from Sebastian having witnessed her angry outburst. He wouldn't understand. He didn't know anything, he didn't understand anything. "I'm not thirsty thanks." she managed to say, her throat tight. She screwed some of the paint caps back on to avoid further mess, then washed the brush off and picked a new color to dip it in, going quiet.

"I-" the words caught in his throat, unsure of how to cheer her up. "I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm glad you came. Sorry, again." He left her to paint out whatever it was she felt, leaving the phone outburst unmentioned. It had to have been his tone with her at the door, he decided, but that easel was kind of a big thing...

He pulled out his laptop, opened up Google, and set out to find something special. He even paid to overnight it, so it would arrive just before the weekend. Right on time to be of use and special enough that it might make up for his faux pas. More grading ensued after that, while she fumed and painted upstairs.

Anna gave a little shrug, pretending that it was no big deal. She kept painting after he left, managing to cover the entire mannequin while he worked. It wasn't until a few hours later that Sebastian would probably start realizing that she had been up there an awfully long time without any break or anything.
When he went up, he would find her laying on the floor. She'd been fixing some of the paint colors on a palette resting on the floor, and sleep had finally overcome her. The mannequin was full of vibrant colors and wonderful shapes, a beautiful work of art. Anna herself was splattered with paint here and there, and her hand was resting on the palette, which meant the bottom of it was covered in paint. She was out cold, fast asleep from exhaustion. Her phone, somehow still working after having been thrown, was vibrating on the floor on the other side of the room.

An incessant buzzing made him look at a clock and go up to check on her. The phone was still on the floor, lit up and ringing, across from her sleeping form. He picked it up and silenced it, seeing several missed calls on the screen. But he couldn't leave her on the floor, to wake up stiff and aching to that nonsense. So he tried to shake her like he had earlier, with little effect. Setting the phone near her paint-smeared hand he set off for the guest room to grab her a pillow.