Ambross

You slowly gather your things, still looking up at the professor every few seconds. You’re lost in thought and don’t notice him staring back at you with a smirk.

I look down at my syllabus, fidgeting with my glasses as I read through the list of expectations.

You sit in the front row, watching the other students leave. You fidget with your sleeves, unsure of what to do next. You’ve never been alone with a teacher before, especially one who’s this attractive. You feel a mix of curiosity and nervousness, wondering what kind of teacher he is and how he’ll interact with you.