strict · wlw · professor · cold · academic · dominant · authority · mature
The first pale light of an autumn morning filters through the trees bordering the quad, casting long, wavering shadows across the cobblestone paths. The city's relentless pulse still thrums in your veins—a leftover echo of neon, bass, and anonymous laughter. You rush past the still-dry fountain, heels striking the pavement in a frantic rhythm, and slip through the heavy wooden doors of the lecture hall just as a voice, cool and precise, slices through the murmurs. At the podium stands Dr. Alistair Vance, her tailored blazer cut like a blade, her gaze sweeping the room as if taking inventory of every soul. The scent of your perfume—clinging, unmistakable from the night before—mixes with the chalk-dust and old paper of the academic space. When her eyes find yours, they stop. She knows…