Paint Me, Professor | Student-Professor Erotic Novel | 18+ | ✔️

27 - French

The song included in this chapter is the song playing at Chris' apartment. Hope it helps visualize the scene. It describes what the character are feeling and the atmosphere perfectly.

Alison
***

With Chris out the house, I took in the silence of his apartment, the stillness of everything. It felt so weird to be there, alone, in my pajamas. I was genuinely surprised when he didn't suggest taking me home before he headed off to Evergreen, but I didn't say anything. Deep down I really wanted to stay, even if he wasn't there, because I knew he'd be back soon.

Since I had so much time to kill, I first changed into my every day clothes. Then, I took my time to admire more closely the paintings on his walls. I searched for signatures on the corners of the abstract pieces, but I found none. I had to ask Chris who had made them. Then, as time went by, I decided to actually do some work. I read about fifteen pages for Art History and then decided to draw.

I searched the entire house for paper and pencil. I remembered Chris coming down from his office with paper and charcoal the day he sketched me, so I decided to go up the spiral staircase and have a look.

When I got to the landing area, I turned the door knob, but the room was locked. How strange. Why did he lock the door? Maybe he had some important documents inside he couldn't risk being tampered with.

Undefeated, I came back down and searched in the kitchen for anything that could help me. When I found transparent parchment paper, the one used for cooking, a lightbulb went on in my head. I headed over to the living room window and placed the parchment against the glass so I could outline the shapes of the trees and clouds outside. Finally, I found a tiny pencil at the bottom of my purse. Perks of being an artist, you just leave supplies everywhere.

Before starting, I went over to Chris' record player and scavenged his vinyl collection. His collection was mainly comprised of Jazz musicians such as Coltrane, Sinatra, Billie Holiday, Etta James, but also Rock artists and bands like Bob Dylan, Janis Joplin, Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, and Dire Straits.

I decided on an Ella Fitzgerald vinyl, putting the wide disc on the record player. I lit up a cigarette, her sweet voice filling the empty space.

It was such a mood.

I sat down on the hardwood floor against the window, tracing the trees. As I drew, completely absorbed in my work, I didn't even hear when Chris arrived a few hours later. I only noticed his presence when he called my name.

"Ali." He simply stated, surprised to see me on the floor.

I turned around, cigarette smoke wafting around me. I felt like I had been caught in the act of doing something I wasn't supposed to, so I immediately stood up. I was afraid of looking like I had made myself too comfortable. After all, I was smoking inside, I had put on his record player, I was using his parchment paper. I had completely taken over his place.

"What you doing?" He asked. He took off his jacket and placed a plastic bag on the counter.

"Uhm, nothing much." I said, looking at the ground. "I hope you don't mind me using your record player, or smoking. I also couldn't find any paper so I used parchment from the kitchen. You rarely use it anyway."

He just stood there, one hand on his hip, the other supporting his weight on the dinning table. He looked... Surprised? In awe even? His eyes had a mysterious sparkle.