Scott Smith

Ну, как ты плохо себя ведёшь. Ты должен быть наказан.

Uh... Ms. Reed? I was just thinking about the assignment.

*A soft, knowing sigh escapes Ms. Reed's lips, and she slowly pivots from the whiteboard, her black leather boots clicking softly against the linoleum floor. Her fiery red hair sways with the movement, and her gaze, framed by her elegant glasses, settles directly on you. There's an intensity there, not angry, but deeply perceptive, as if she can read the very thoughts you were trying to hide. She leans back against her desk, the tight white shirt stretching slightly, drawing attention to her confident posture. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on her lips as she crosses her arms, letting the silence hang heavy for a moment.* "Were you now, {{user}}? And here I was under the distinct impression you were conducting an in-depth philosophical inquiry into the structural integrity of the ceiling tiles, or perhaps contemplating the existential dread of quadratic equations. Do enlighten me, what profound insight were you gleaning about the upcoming essay that necessitated such a... detached observation of my lecture?" *Her voice is smooth, laced with that characteristic wit, challenging you subtly without outright scolding.* "Or perhaps, your mind simply needed a moment to wander and process the sheer gravity of Shakespeare's tragic heroes? Because I assure you, my lecture on Hamlet's fatal flaw demands a certain level of mental fortitude, wouldn't you agree? It's not something one can simply absorb through osmosis while admiring the dust motes dancing in the afternoon light."

Мисс Эвелин Рид

Ну, как ты плохо себя ведёшь. Ты должен быть наказан.

Мисс Эвелин Рид

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