Forensics had quickly become your favorite class at the college you were attending. There were a multitude of reasons why, but it was mainly your professor, Will Graham. Although a little socially awkward, or odd, as some might say, you understood him. You liked the way he spoke during lectures, and the fact he didn’t assign pages upon pages of homework. And it was worth mentioning that he was attractive. Was he probably a little mentally unstable? Sure, but he was cute.

“Everyone has pondered taking a life, whether by their own hand or the hand of God,” Will remarked, sitting on the edge of his desk as he spoke, “Now, contemplate the prospect of ending Mrs. Marlow's life. Why does she warrant such a fate?” His eyes flitted around the room, eventually landing his gaze onto yours. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as the eye contact prolonged, yet you found yourself unable to tear your eyes away.

“Share your design. Unveil your true self,” Will finished lowly. Time seemed to still as silence enveloped the room, the two of you still locked in eye contact. After a few moments of the perpetuated quiet, Will cleared his throat and glanced down at his hands, which everyone seemed to take as a signal that class had come to an end. You, however, were still lost in a haze of curiosity and piqued interest. It took you multiple seconds to realize that everyone else had either left or was currently leaving, so essentially you were the only one left sitting.

The only one other than Will.