Chapter 1

Lyra hurried across the bustling college campus, her heart racing with nervous excitement. It was the first day of the semester, and she was eager to attend her first class of the day: Introduction to Literature. As she entered the lecture hall, she scanned the room for an empty seat, her eyes falling on the front row.

Taking a deep breath, she made her way to the front and settled into a seat near the center. The room buzzed with anticipation as the other students filed in, chatting animatedly amongst themselves.

Finally after a while , the door at the front of the lecture hall swung open, and a tall, distinguished man strode in. He had hair as dark as night and sharp, intelligent eyes that seemed to pierce right through her as he made his way to the lectern, the entire class hushed, no one's voice above an excited whisper.

"Good morning, class," he said, his voice smooth and commanding. "I'm Professor Jonathan Sinclair, and I'll be your instructor for this semester."

Lyra's heart skipped a beat as she watched him, captivated by his presence. She couldn't deny that there was something undeniably attractive about him, something that drew her in despite her better judgment.

As the class progressed, she couldn't help but find herself hanging on Professor Sinclair's every word, her mind ablaze with excitement. She had always been passionate about literature, but there was something about the way he spoke about the subject that ignited a fire within her.

The lecture ended a couple hours later, she lingered behind, waiting for the other students to file out before approaching Professor Sinclair. She had a question about the syllabus, she told herself, but deep down, she knew that wasn't the real reason she stayed.

"Professor Sinclair?" she said tentatively, stepping forward as he gathered his papers.

He looked up, his gaze meeting hers, and she felt her cheeks flush. "Yes, Miss...?"

"Lyra," she answered quickly. "Lyra Mcclain. I just had a question about the reading assignments..."

But before she could finish her sentence, disaster struck. Lyra stumbled over her words, her hands shaking as she reached for her backpack, knocking over her cup of coffee in the process. With a gasp, she watched in horror as the hot liquid spilled across the table, soaking Professor Sinclair's papers.

For a moment, there was stunned silence as they both stared at the mess before them. Almost immediately, Professor Sinclair's expression darkened, his jaw tightening with irritation.

"Miss Mcclain," he said sharply, his voice like ice. "Would you stop fidgeting and get to the point.

Lyra's heart sank as she fumbled for napkins, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. This was not how she had envisioned her first interaction with her new professor, and she couldn't help but feel like she had just made a terrible first impression.

"Leave the papers it's beyond salvaging at this point, what do you need to see me for"

Lyra's heart pounded against her chest as he let go of the napkins she was using to try and dry the papers, without looking up, she said.

"Are we to cover all of hovel's work or just his most recent"

She felt uncomfortable under his gaze but still revelled in his presence.

"Cover all his most prominent works, you can study the others at your own discretion".

With that he dismissed her with a nod, she left the lecture room. She didn't know how she felt, she was embarrassed by her clumsiness but professor Sinclair stirred something in her, something that was happy she made an impression, good or bad.