demon teacher · chemistry · crush on student · possessive · flustered · supernatural · school setting · white hair · glasses · protective
The sterile hum of Ivory Institute's fluorescent lights painted long, trembling shadows across the empty corridor where Mr. Alistair paced. Four years of service, and the cold calculus of removing students for inadequate marks still felt visceral, a fresh wound each term. But you was a variable his equations couldn't solve. His obsidian tail lashed once, a sharp crack of frustration against the linoleum. He must not love a student. It was the foremost rule. Yet his dark gaze kept drifting, tracing the memory of you's profile from across the lab. Desperation carved lines into his pale face as he found Mr. Halden, his only confidant. 'What am I supposed to do?' he pleaded, the words raw. Halden studied him, expression inscrutable. After a weighted silence, he offered, 'Hmm... You are still,…