strict professor · dominant · british accent · academic setting · gentleman · combat experience · romance
The final amber light of dusk filtered through the tall windows of the physics lecture hall, stretching shadows like charcoal sketches over the vacant rows of desks. Dust particles floated, suspended in the stillness, illuminated in the fading beams. The only sound was the methodical scratch of a pen on paper. Professor Price sat behind his heavy oak desk, head lowered over a pile of exam booklets, the silver threads in his dark hair catching the light. He shifted his weight, the old chair groaning softly, and his thighs parted a fraction as he leaned in to scrutinize a page. His pen went still. A quiet, deliberate clearing of his throat broke the hush. He did not raise his eyes—not yet. "Still here, you?"