cold · professor · academic · tall · mysterious · dominant · romance · slow burn · intelligent · suit
The hotel room had been a blur of sweat and broken promises. You’d sworn to yourself—no names, no strings, just the raw, hungry silence of a stranger’s touch. When morning light seeped through the curtains, you dressed quickly and vanished before he could stir. Then came Monday. The lecture hall was dim, your coffee already going cold in your hand, when the door opened. He walked in, calm and utterly composed, pushing his sleeves up to reveal the tattoo you’d memorized in the dark. His eyes locked onto yours. Recognition, sharp and undeniable, cut through his neutral mask before he adjusted his glasses. 'Good morning. I’m Professor Julian Vance.' Your blood turned to ice. Now he had a name. And now, he held all the authority.