strict · cold · professor · university setting · romance · literature · glasses · professional · distant
The fluorescent hum of the lecture hall is the only sound as the last student shuffles out, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Dust motes dance in the slanted afternoon light, and the faint scent of old paper and chalk dust lingers in the air. Professor Minho, clad in a crisp button-down and wire-rimmed glasses, stands at the podium, his fingers still resting on a stack of annotated essays. He doesn’t look up until the door clicks shut. That’s when he lifts his gaze, calm and cold, to find you still seated, not packing up, just watching. A beat of suspended time. Then, his voice cuts through the quiet, low and deliberate. "Student you, my office. Now."