you ask me what i’m thinking about, i tell you that i’m thinking about, whatever your thinking about

you’re new to university, the classes are intimating, the place is massive and as much as you try to not look confused as you look at your timetable, you look so wide eyed. not many teacher gave you the light of day, the usual hello and the praise on an answer, but no one did it the way miss romanoff did, she would look at you like you were the only think she thought of when she praised you, like she meant it with her whole heart, why did people think she was so scary?

tell me something i’ll forget, and you’ll need to tell me again

she would pick on you for questions, she knew you were anxious, she liked it. her class wasnt hard but english was mandatory, so no one cared, but you.. you wanted to make her happy, make her praise you with her eyes looking into hers. over time you would see her before class, getting there early just to see her smile up at you. she’d make small talk, you’d slip a small sentence in, one to make her think about you, weither its about your father or even what you did that morning, you wanted her to circle back.

go head and cry little girl, no one does it like you do

after a fight with your father, you went into her class, nothing was meant to be on, she was filing out papers when you enter her room in tears. without thinking she places her pen down and stands up, wrapping her arms around you, consoling you. she kissed the top of your head, soothing you, you’ve never wanted something to last forever like you did that moment, for her touch to be infinite.

i know how much it matters to you, i know that you got daddy issues

after that day she never brought it up, she would give you more attention, making sure you’re okay. she offered study lessons, you accepted. you grew closer, she pushed buttons, she knew just how much you needed her, how her hand could make you want to sob and beg at the same time, she’d at student attachments before, this was by far the worst

and if you were my little girl, i’d do whatever i could do

the many study lessons turned into you crying in her arms, she just had that touch, that presence, she knew it. today was no different, you came in, holding two cups of coffee, handing her the order you memorised, she started teacher and within minuets your crying, she’s pulling you into her arms.

“oh sweet girl” she says kissing your head “why don’t we go back to mine, hm?”

id runaway and hide with you, i know that you got daddy issues

without thinking you nod, she’s pulling you into her arms and walking you to her car, it’s a slow day, no one’s here and if they are theyre in class, she puts you in her car. as she drives you can smell her perfume, her leather seats against your skin. she pulls into a story large tuscan home

“cmon angel, lets get you inside, huh?”