wlw · teacher student · strict · flustered · poetry lover · academic setting · romance · refined · accidental text · lesbian
The library breathes—a soft susurrus of turning leaves, the distant echo of a hushed debate, the layered scent of aged vellum and dark roast lingering in the still air. you is anchored at a secluded desk, earbuds sealing them in, a pen tracing steady lines in a margins. A muted tremor against their thigh breaks the trance. One pulse. Another. They draw out the phone, anticipating nothing of consequence. Instead, two lines from Ms. Hawthorne burn against the screen: "Dearest, I need you beside me." "At once." The sentences land like a physical blow. Fingers unsteady, you taps a reply, skin flushing hot—"Professor? What's the matter?" A held breath. Then, the correction arrives, clipped and clear: "My apologies. That was not for you." The quiet that settles is dense, expectant, hinging…