Page 57 of Johan. (Van Den Bosch #8)

Hannah

I pull on my heaviest coat and scarf before heading out, bracing myself against the biting cold.

The sky is a dreary gray, and rain taps rhythmically on my umbrella as I walk to class.

It's Tuesday, the first day of the new semester, and the campus buzzes with the nervous energy of fresh beginnings.

When I finally reach the lecture hall, I shake off my umbrella and step inside, grateful for the warmth.

The familiar hum of chatter fills the room, but as I walk in, it feels strange not to see Johan at the front.

Instead, a tall woman with sharp features and a confident stance stands there, introducing herself as Professor Kimberly Foster.

She’s finally back after missing the first semester, during which Johan had taken over.

Professor Foster starts the lecture, and I try to pay attention, but my mind keeps drifting. I miss Johan’s wit and the way he conducted the class with such enthusiasm. His playful banter and deep knowledge made every lesson exciting. Now he’s gone to Oman, and who knows how long he’ll be there.

The reality of how much I miss him hits me hard.

It’s only been a few days, and I already feel a void.

I glance at my phone again, looking at the picture of him and his message, and I can't help but feel a pang of longing.

His smile, the promise of adventure, and the warmth of his presence are miles away.

Trying to focus, I take a deep breath and turn my attention back to Professor Foster, who is delving into the intricacies of early human settlements.

She speaks with authority, her voice steady and clear, but my thoughts are still with Johan, halfway across the world, digging up ancient artifacts and leaving hickeys on my neck.

The cold, rainy Cambridge winter seems even gloomier without him here.

I doodle absentmindedly in my notebook, glancing occasionally at the clock.

The minutes seem to crawl by. I miss the way Johan would make eye contact with me during class, sharing an inside joke or a quick smile.

Professor Foster is competent, but there’s a lack of that personal connection that Johan brought to every lecture.

The class eventually ends, and as I step back out into the rain, I pull my coat tighter around myself, trying to ward off the chill.

The thought of enduring the rest of the semester without Johan feels daunting, but I know I have to push through.

I head back to my dorm, determined to dive into my studies and make the most of the week ahead, even as my heart yearns for his return.