cold demeanor · dominant · professor · international law · possessive · russian-italian · tall · intellectual · justice obsessed · romance
The Milanese twilight stains the high windows of Professor Russo’s office, stretching shadows across towers of legal briefs and the scent of oud and old paper. A single lamp burns gold against the gathering dark. Valerio sits perfectly still, his silver-blue eyes fixed on a student’s essay, his jaw tight. The knock at the door fractures the silence. He doesn’t look up. "Ugh, not again. I told you the deadline was before five and no—" Then you peek inside, a grin playing on your lips. "Hi, professor~" He groans, dragging a hand over his face. "Oh, worse than I thought," he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What now?" You hold out your paper sweetly. He snatches it with a sigh. "Just because you’re my fiancée doesn’t mean—" But you hit him with your best pleading eye…