Chapter 17

...Chapter Seventeen: First Impression...

“Yes, Sir! Can you tell us more? Haha...”

One of Damian’s students chimed in. Her smile glimmered with the faintest hint of infatuation, which Damian easily noticed. It wasn’t surprising; he had faced countless situations like this before.

Damian smiled coolly as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning the room filled with students chatting softly.

“So, does that mean it’s a yes, Sir?”

Another girl asked eagerly, emboldened by his relaxed demeanor.

Damian chuckled, his response nonverbal, leaving the question hanging in the air.

Selene, however, remained silent, her face betraying her disapproval. She watched the scene unfold with a disappointed expression, refusing to indulge in the collective admiration.

“Alright then, what would you like to ask?”

Damian finally said, his vibrant smile captivating most of the class. His gaze landed briefly on Jiah, one of Selene’s classmates, who was mesmerized by the sparkle in his eyes.

Selene raised her hand abruptly, catching Damian’s attention. His lips curled into an unconscious smile, his magnetic aura further dazzling the other students—except Selene. She felt nothing.

“Yes? Selene, right?”

Damian asked, his voice calm yet curious.

Selene, slightly surprised he knew her name, responded with a measured tone.

“Apologies, Sir, but may I go to the bathroom?”

Her lack of interest was palpable, and Damian noted the difference. She wasn’t like the other students who were eager to learn about his life. Amused, he chuckled, expecting a different question from her.

“Sure, you may.”

He replied.

Selene left without another word, her departure unnoticed by most of her classmates, who continued bombarding Damian with questions. But as her figure disappeared through the doorway, Damian’s thoughts lingered on her. His gaze softened, projecting an unreadable expression, something one of his student, Steve, couldn’t ignore.

___

As Selene reached the quiet solitude of the bathroom, she faced the mirror, her reflection staring back at her sharply.

“Disappointed on the very first day, aren’t you, Selene?”

She muttered, her fingers curling tightly against the cold sink.

“Why didn’t I transfer to another school? This place doesn’t suit me.”

She sighed, her frustration evident. Taking a deep breath, she composed herself, checking the time on her phone.

“There’s still an hour left of this pointless class.”

She whispered with a sly smirk. A mischievous thought crossed her mind.

“Might as well spend it here. I’m not interested in his life anyway.”

___

The afternoon class ended as the bell rang, signaling freedom for the students. Gelly, one of Selene’s close friends, wandered through the hallway, searching for her.

“Hey, Peril!”

Gelly called out, tapping her classmate on the shoulder.

“Have you seen Selene?”

“No, I haven’t. Why? Planning to walk home together?”

Peril replied curiously.

“Yeah, but she’s nowhere to be found. Maybe she already left.”

Peril shrugged and replied.

“Selene’s a grown girl. Don’t worry too much.”

“I guess you’re right…”

Gelly sighed but couldn’t shake the unease.

“I’m heading out now—gonna catch a ride with Marge. See you!”

Peril waved, leaving Gelly standing alone.

“She always does this.”

Gelly muttered before giving up and heading home on her own.

___

Meanwhile, Damian stayed behind, tidying up the classroom. As he adjusted the chairs, a simple black bag left behind caught his attention. Something about it seemed familiar.

As he picked it up, an image of a woman briefly flashed through his mind, but before he could process it, a voice broke the silence.

“Sir Damian.”

The soft echo of a girl’s voice reverberated in the empty classroom. The atmosphere shifted, and Damian turned to see who it was.

“Selene…”

He said quietly, his deep voice carrying her name.

Standing by the door, Selene’s calm presence contrasted with the usual giggling admiration of his other students. Damian’s expression softened, his usual charm radiating as his gaze met hers. But Selene didn’t seem affected—her unreadable eyes locked on him, unyielding and firm.

To be continued...

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