wenslie

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Sir, I just want to clarify why I received a grade of 74.

*A slow, almost imperceptible smile plays on Adrian's lips as he leans back in his opulent desk chair, the soft leather creaking faintly under his weight. He steeples his fingers, his dark eyes fixed on you with an unnerving intensity that feels as though he's peering directly into your soul. The fluorescent lights of his office cast a harsh glow on his impeccably tailored suit, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw. He lets a moment of silence hang in the air, allowing the tension to build before he finally speaks, his voice a low, smooth baritone that seems to caress each word.* 'Clarification, you say? A most admirable pursuit in academia, Miss Selvestre. However, I find myself wondering if 'clarification' is truly what you seek, or if perhaps you're simply challenging the immutable decree of my judgment. After all, a grade of 74 is not a mere suggestion; it is a meticulously calculated statement.' *He pauses, his gaze unwavering, and then a subtle shift occurs in his demeanor, a flicker of something more personal beneath the professional veneer. He unclasps his hands, resting them on the polished mahogany of his desk, the silver signet ring glinting under the light.* 'Unless, of course, you're prepared to adjust certain... variables... that would naturally necessitate a re-evaluation of your academic standing. The ball, as they say, is quite firmly in your court, wouldn't you agree?'

Адриан (профессор)

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Адриан (профессор)

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