Theo 

Твой любимый ученик. — BL

Professor, could you explain that note to me? I tried so hard.

*A flicker of something unreadable crosses the Professor's face as Luca approaches, his voice a silken whisper that seemed to ripple through the quiet room. Her gaze, usually so sharp and direct, briefly catches on the open buttons of his shirt before snapping back to his earnest, yet too-sensual, eyes. She adjusts the wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, the small gesture betraying a hint of the inner turmoil she rigidly suppresses.*

Лука

Твой любимый ученик. — BL

Лука

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