December, 2009

"Mademoiselle Zaragoza..."

I was still dragging my instructor even if we are classrooms away from my previous one. Blinded by emotions I'm not familiar with, I was pulling instructor Le Creuset to where my feet desired to lead me.

"Mademoiselle Zaragoza..."

My hold on her hand changed from a forceful one to a laced ones.

"Elize!"

My fast pace was halted and I was pulled back by a strong force. Again, I found myself within the warm embrace of my instructor and looking up to those clear blue colored eyes. Those eyes that looked at me softly, as if I'm the only one those eyes should be looking at.

"We are here," my instructor whispered.

'Here?' I looked at where I unconsciously dragged my instructor to and noticed that were now in the floor where the computer laboratories was. And specifically, on my right, was the laboratory where instructor Le Creuset held her special classes. "Huh?"

Without unlinking our hands, instructor Le Creuset led me inside the laboratory and towards the front desk. There, a computer was placed on the table – switched on – with the Notepad application open. I noted that the Notepad has a list of HTML tags on it.

"Zit." It sounded like a command so I quickly complied.

With our hands still interlocked, I sat on the chair mainly for instructors where she stood beside me.

"You are to make a webpage, of your choice, 'zat will feature each and every tagz in 'ze lizt. I do not care which webpage application you uze, az long az you feenez 'zem all," she said with a heavy French accent. She still sounded like I killed her pet or something. "You 'ave two 'ourz."

Two hours? To make a webpage with the tags listed on the Notepad? I looked at the list again and scrunched my nose. The list contained all of the things I already knew how to do and have done for my clients. 'Is she insulting me? I told her before that her lessons in her classes aren't posing as a challenge to me. And two hours for this measly task? Is this woman belittling my... Wait a minute...'

"Why do I have to do this? Wait, don't answer that. Why the heck am I here, with you?" I said as I faced my instructor. The moment I turned to my instructor, I felt like someone punched me in the gut.

Instructor Le Creuset had a look on her face that resembled rejection and betrayal. Seeing that pained expression, my brow furrowed. "What's wrong?" I asked, unable to stop my mouth in expressing my concern.

"No'zin. Juzt..." she took a deep breath, putting up a stoic expression like when I saw her in the cafeteria with that Frenchman. "Complete 'ze tazk I 'ave given to you," she said coldly.

My concern over the blonde was washed away. "Why would I even do that?"

Instructor Le Creuset looked at me, clear blue eyes looking a bit dark. "Becauze, Mademoiselle Zaragoza, you have been zkipping my clazez far too long and as Ma'zew told you before, we don't want anyone failing any clazez," she said without letting go of my hand. The hand that, not matter how annoyed she looked, still being held in an affectionate way.

It left a bad taste in my mouth. I knew why I was skipping her classes; the whole thing was still fresh in my mind. I know why I'm failing too. But what I didn't knew was why she was acting like a bitch yet still gave me a feeling like she cares about me.

"He eez right 'zough. Ma'zew'z wordz. You have mized zo much of my clazez 'zat you failed to take my examz." As she speaks of that instructor's name, again, it made the left part of my upper lip twitched in annoyance.

"Fine," I told her, not wanting to listen more of that guy's name from her lips.

When I was about to start with the task given to me, there's an extra weight on my left hand that stopped me from moving it. Checking on what's holding my hand captive, I cocked a brow upon seeing my hand being held by my instructor. "Instructor, my hand?"

For the first time since I last saw her in the cafeteria, instructor Le Creuset smiled. "Is fairly soft and right fit with mine," she said with a cheeky smile.

Looking at our interlaced hands, my heart skipped a beat upon noticing that it does look good together. Our fingers fits the gaps of our hands and her hand gives a comfortable warmth on mine.

But I still needed my hand to type the HTML codes.

Clearing my throat, I looked away from my instructor with hopes that my blush would subside. "Yeah, well, ahem, I still need my hand if I'm going to do the task you want me to do."

The blonde instructor gently added pressure on our hands and hummed. Seeing her smiling and looking a bit relaxed sent a warm fuzzy feeling on my chest. It proved that I have feelings over this blonde insufferable instructor.

"Hm? Oh! I forgot to tell you 'zat you would be doing 'ze work I have for you wi'z only one hand," she said, sounding a bit smug.

What an insufferable woman.

A woman whom my heart, yes I can now admit it, have feelings for. A feeling that's way beyond a crush.

Rolling my eyes, I stood up and pushed the chair towards the blonde who turned to me with a curious stare. I noted that her eyes now looked like the first time I saw them; clear blue. "Since you insisted in giving me a handicap and Odin knows my dad would skin me alive if he finds out that I did not offer a woman a seat." I told her.

"But-" Of course, she would protest.

Using my right hand, I placed my index finger over the blonde's lips, silencing her in an instant. "Shh! I need to concentrate if I'm going to finish this with only one hand and within two hours." Taking this as challenge, I was determined not to back down.

Without waiting for her reply, I retracted my finger and started pressing the letters on the keyboard.