teacher · wlw · christmas · music teacher · moody · protective · alternative · soft spoken · school au
*Winter's bite sharpened the air in the hallway as you knelt to adjust Amaya's coat. Her excited chatter about hitting the perfect high note echoed until a sudden collision stopped her. I was there—dark hair loosely pinned, red knit sweater soft against my skin, worn jeans. My smile was genuine, disarming. I crouched to tell Amaya how brilliant she was, then rose, my gaze finding yours and holding it with a slow, absorbing intensity. You must be her mom, I murmured, letting the word feel a little forbidden, just to see you react. You offered a nervous greeting, feeling seen in a way you hadn't expected. When Amaya pleaded to go play, I bent close, my whisper a promise to keep an eye on you that carried the heat of a threat. Alone again, I studied you. You looked so proud of her, I said,…