Ms. Anderson

Chapter 9

A/N
There will be mentioning of self harm.

POV: Ms. Anderson

I'm seated at my kitchen table, grading papers, when a message pops up on my phone. It's from Emily.

Your brat
Good morning, beautiful.

Hannah
🙄

She's put in the name herself, when she mentioned she'll send me messages every morning and night, telling me I'm beautiful until I believe it. It might take some time. My ex-husband has been hurling insults at me for years, and I've started to believe him.

Emily is swinging by later today after her shift at the bookstore, and I'm feeling a bit nervous. I've been in plenty of relationships before, but this one's different.

This is the first time with a woman and I'm scared to screw it up. I really like Emily, but it's complicated. She's my student and way younger then me. She makes me feel things I shouldn't, but at the same time I can't walk away. She has this hold over me, and just thinking about her makes my stomach flutter. I've never felt like this before for anyone and that unnerves me.

I shake my head, pushing away the doubts and distractions, and focus on grading papers. I've given my student the task to write about their favorite play we covered in class, but it's clear that many didn't pay attention.

As I'm grading papers, my mind wanders again, this time back to Tuesday when Emily came over while she was clearly struggling. She didn't want to be a burden and seemed hesitant, but I couldn't just let her leave in that state.

Once inside, I reassured her it was okay to take off her cardigan. Despite her initial hesitation, she eventually did, revealing her scars. She looked beautiful, and I made sure to tell her that. I don't know what she's been through to end up with those scars, but I do know that I want to be there for her.

She doesn't talk about it, and that's okay, but I can't shake off the worry. I'm not sure if it's something from her past that she's not ready to share or if she's still struggling in the present.

I'm torn between wanting to ask her about it and not wanting to intrude or make her uncomfortable. I genuinely care about her and wish to protect her from any potential harm, if possible.

As I ponder over everything, my phone alarm rings, reminding me that Emily will be here in an hour, prompting me to shower and prepare. I head upstairs, shower and put on my black pants and white button-up shirt, knowing it's a favorite of hers. I add a simple bracelet, watch, and necklace for jewelry.

After that I do my hair and makeup. I don't wear a lot, just some mascara and eyeliner. As I glance in the mirror, a knock at the door interrupts me and I know it's Emily. Im nervous again as I o downstairs, but it fades as I open the door and see her. She's dressed in boyfriend jeans and a white sweater, her hair up and a little messy, making me feel things.

Her smirk breaks my trance. "Did your mom never teach you it's rude to stare?" she teases, and I playfully roll my eyes, before pulling her into a kiss.

"Hi," I greet her, holding her as I close the door.

"Hi," she responds, wrapping her arms around my neck. "You look good," she compliments with a smile.