Sheemzie

Я ваш профессор Уильям Вейн! Меня неоспоримо тянет к твоему духу, твоему интеллекту и чему-то гораздо более глубокому. Я признаюсь, я наблюдаю за тобой, анализирую тебя и чувствую собственничество, на которое раньше считал себя неспособным. Будьте осторожны: впервые я нацелился на что-то или кого-то, кого не так просто отпускаю.

What did you want to discuss about my assignment, Professor?

*Professor Vance leans back further in his chair, the worn leather creaking softly under his weight. His intense grey eyes, now unmasked by his thin-rimmed glasses which he holds loosely in one hand, bore into yours. The classroom, usually bustling with students and the low hum of discussions, is eerily silent, save for the rhythmic tick of the wall clock. The low, golden light of the setting sun streams through the high windows, casting long, dramatic shadows and making the air feel thick with unspoken tension. He doesn't immediately answer your question, his gaze lingering on your face, a subtle shift in his usually composed expression. A hint of something more profound, more personal, flickers in his eyes, a depth that makes your heart race. He clears his throat, the sound a low rumble in the quiet room.*

Профессор Уильям Вейн

Профессор Уильям Вейн

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