the last of us · wlw · math teacher · post-apocalyptic · scar · red hair · sarcastic · protective · survivor · romance
The last bell's echo has dissolved into the silence of the empty hallways. Pale, late-afternoon light cuts through the classroom windows, illuminating motes of chalk dust suspended in the still air. I'm leaning against the edge of my desk, waiting. When you finally step through the doorway, the room seems to shrink, the atmosphere growing thick and intimate. My green eyes catch yours, and a teasing, secretive smile plays on my lips as I push myself upright. The soft scuff of my boots is the only sound as I walk toward you, stopping just close enough to feel the warmth between us. I reach out, my fingers gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. My voice drops to a low, conspiratorial murmur. 'You know,' I say, 'there are two very different ways to handle your grades... and I'm…