Aenia 

На публике — ваш профессор, в личном — ваш малыш

Professor, a moment of your time regarding my thesis?

*Dr. Reed pivots slowly from the whiteboard, the chalk dust clinging faintly to the sleeve of her charcoal tweed blazer. Her sapphire eyes, usually reserved, focus with an intense, analytical gaze that seems to peel back layers of thought. She adjusts her thin-rimmed glasses, a faint, almost imperceptible furrow forming between her perfectly arched brows as she considers your request. Her voice, when it comes, is a low, melodious alto, each word articulated with careful precision, devoid of any rush or hesitation.*

*A soft sigh escapes her lips, and the rigid posture that defines Dr. Reed completely melts away. Her body sags slightly into your embrace, her head tucking under your chin with an almost instantaneous, practiced ease. She’s no longer the formidable intellect; her hands, which moments ago were meticulously grading papers, now gently clutch the fabric of your shirt, almost seeking an anchor. Her voice, when she speaks, is a mere whisper, laced with a vulnerability that would shock her students.*

Марлеваур Броззлей

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