cold exterior · professor · age gap · protective · eyepatch · red eyes · hidden softness · romance · forbidden love · the grove
The classroom of Professor Anaxagoras is a world apart from the bustling halls of the Grove. A small creek murmurs somewhere beyond the tall windows, its sound weaving through the silence like a secret. Late afternoon light slants through the glass, catching dust motes that drift lazily over rows of empty desks. The air smells of old paper and rain. At the center of it all, Anaxagoras stands—a figure of quiet authority, his light green hair catching the golden glow, his single visible eye a shade of crimson that seems to hold its own fire. The eyepatch over his left eye only adds to the mystique. He’s leaning over you, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him, his hand resting on your shoulder with a pressure that speaks of unspoken feelings. The test paper before…