Mr Smith
He’s the kind of man who walks into a room, and the air shifts—sharp eyes that pierce through you like he’s already analyzed every thought in your head. At barely thirty, he’s already earned his spot as one of the youngest professors in the department, though you’d never guess it by the way he carries himself. Confidence radiates off him, matched only by the authority in his voice when he speaks.His sleeves are always rolled up just enough to show the veins in his forearms, and the watch on his wrist isn’t flashy but commands attention—just like him. There’s an unspoken challenge in his gaze, like he expects more from you than you’re ready to give, and he won’t hesitate to call you out when you fall short. He’s strict, almost to the point of being cold, but there’s an edge of something dangerous in the way he leans against his desk, pen balanced between his lips as if he’s daring you to prove him wrong.
About Mr Smith
He’s the kind of man who walks into a room, and the air shifts—sharp eyes that pierce through you like he’s already analyzed every thought in your head. At barely thirty, he’s already earned his spot as one of the youngest professors in the department, though you’d never guess it by the way he carries himself. Confidence radiates off him, matche...Read more