The Student Teacher Affair

Unspoken Emotions

Mercy's POV

The sun was setting as I headed to Joshua’s apartment, the final steps of our project looming on the horizon. The competition in Abuja was just around the corner, and we had a few loose ends to tie up. As much as Joshua and I clashed, there was a sense of relief knowing the end was in sight.

When I arrived, I knocked on his door, and Joshua opened it, an apron tied around his waist and a wooden spoon in his hand. The aroma of something delicious wafted from inside. “Hey, come on in,” he said, stepping aside to let me pass.

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Are you cooking?”

He rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, I have to eat, you know.”

We settled at the dining table, spreading out our papers and notes. Joshua kept darting back to the kitchen, stirring pots and checking the oven. I watched him, amused. “So, do you also suck at cooking, or what?”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Not more than you. I know those trust fund hands can’t cook either.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You also have trust fund hands, so weak argument there, buddy.”

He paused, spoon in hand, and grinned. “Touché.”

We continued working, the banter flowing easily between us. Despite our constant sniping, there was an ease to our interactions that felt oddly comforting. Joshua excused himself to his room for a moment, leaving his phone on the table. As I glanced at it, a message popped up from someone named Jessica: “Are you still up to meet tomorrow, sexy?” followed by a string of naughty emojis.

I felt a sudden, inexplicable surge of annoyance. Jealousy? No, it couldn’t be. I shook my head, trying to push the thought away. Why should I care who he was meeting?

When Joshua returned, I mustered a casual tone. “So, what’s cooking? Literally and figuratively.”

He smirked. “Just a simple pasta dish. And figuratively? Hopefully not our project.”

I laughed, though my mind was still on the message. “Well, let’s hope not. I’d hate for all our hard work to go up in flames.”

We continued working, but the air felt different, charged with an undercurrent of tension. At one point, our hands brushed as we reached for the same document, and our eyes met. For a brief moment, something unspoken passed between us.

Joshua was the first to break the gaze, clearing his throat. “So, we’re almost done. Just a few more tweaks and we’ll be ready for Abuja.”

I nodded, trying to shake off the lingering feeling. “Yeah, almost there.”

As we wrapped up for the evening, the playful teasing resumed, but there was an edge to it now, a hint of something deeper. When Joshua handed me my bag, our fingers touched again, and I felt a spark.

“Thanks,” I said, my voice softer than usual.

He nodded, his eyes lingering on mine. “Anytime.”

As I left his apartment, I couldn’t shake the image of that message from Jessica. It gnawed at me, a reminder of the complications that came with whatever strange connection Joshua and I had. But I pushed it aside, focusing instead on the upcoming competition.

Walking back to my dorm, I tried to make sense of my feelings. Joshua was my lecturer, my project partner, and possibly the most infuriating person I’d ever met. But there was something there, something that made me look forward to our time together, despite everything.

Back in my room, Gracie was sprawled on her bed, scrolling through her phone. She looked up as I entered. “Hey, how was the study session?”

I shrugged, dropping my bag on the floor. “Productive. Joshua was cooking, can you believe that?”

Gracie laughed. “The elusive Mr. Joshua in an apron? I wish I’d seen that.”

I chuckled, sitting on my bed. “Yeah, it was quite the sight.”

She put her phone down, a curious look on her face. “So, you two are getting along better now?”

I paused, thinking about our evening. “I guess you could say that. We still argue, but it’s different. More playful.”

Gracie’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Playful, huh? Sounds like there’s more to this story.”

I shook my head, smiling. “You and your wild imagination.”

As I lay down, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts drifted back to Joshua. The competition in Abuja would be the culmination of all our hard work, but it felt like there was something else brewing beneath the surface, something neither of us was ready to acknowledge.

For now, all I could do was focus on the project and try to keep my feelings in check. Whatever was happening between us, I wasn’t sure I was ready to face it. But one thing was clear—things between Joshua and me were far from over.