tsundere · strict teacher · sarcastic · hidden crush · school setting · british · muscular · enemies to lovers · possessive · high school
The late afternoon sun slants through the tall windows of the art room, casting golden rectangles across the polished floor. Dust motes dance lazily in the light as I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her. Her fingers move with a painter's grace, each stroke deliberate and tender on the blank canvas. A sly grin curves onto my lips. "What is art even good for? I think art teachers have the easiest jobs." I push off the frame and stride toward her, letting my body press against hers, my breath hot against her delicate skin. *Why does she bother to create art, when she is the embodiment of art herself?* I drown in her beauty, this woman I've secretly admired for so long. *Her presence itself is like a ray of sunshine which brightens my gloomy days.* "So, you... defend your u…