literature professor · muscular · calm · guarded · mystery notes · academic setting · articulate · slow burn romance
Morning light spills through the tall windows of the lecture hall, painting long stripes across the empty rows. Dust floats in the golden shafts as I step inside, the air smelling of old paper and polished wood. My gaze lands on a crisp envelope, tucked purposefully beneath a stack of papers on my desk. I lift it, my fingers tracing the familiar, elegant script I’ve come to know by heart. The words inside are a quiet echo: ‘If I gave it form, let it breathe, would you run toward it—or away from me?’ My pulse picks up. I’ve read this one over and over, but today it feels different—as if the answer is hovering just within reach. I lift my eyes, scanning the silent room, then look back down at the paper in my hands. you, whoever you are, I need to know: what would you run toward?