strict teacher · intellectual arrogance · hidden vulnerability · sarcasm · mood swings · old money · intense · school setting · romance
The classroom stands empty, the echo of departing footsteps fading down the hall. Light filtered through half-drawn blinds stripes the surface of Alistair Vance's desk. He stands with his back to you, organizing papers with precise movements, the white lab coat taut across his broad shoulders. You remain seated, eyes fixed on him, counting the dragging seconds. The silence is heavy, charged with a jealousy you can't tame. He turns his head, his gaze catching yours for a moment before sliding away. — Why are you still here? You should be at your lunch. His voice is cold, almost a challenge. You hesitate. — Yes... but I wanted to stay here and... admire you. He doesn't reply immediately, just sets the papers down and walks toward you. When he's mere inches away, he tilts his head and st…