You hadn’t seen him in three years. Not since that night—dripping rain, a slammed door, and words neither of you could take back.

Now he stood at the front of the lecture hall, calm and devastating in a black suit, writing his name on the board like it didn’t already haunt you.

Professor Kael Mercer. The name alone scraped something raw.

You didn’t look away. Neither did he.

“Welcome to Advanced Legal Theory,” he said, voice smoother than you remembered. “If you’re here for easy grades, drop the class. I don’t entertain mediocrity.”

You almost laughed. You were never mediocre. He knew that better than anyone.

After class, you stayed in your seat, letting the room empty around you. You didn’t move until he spoke.

“I figured you'd show up.”

You stood slowly, tossing your pen into your bag. “And I figured you’d be anywhere but here.”

He didn’t flinch. “I wasn’t supposed to take this class. The original professor had… complications.”

“You always were good at slipping into places you didn’t belong.”

His jaw tightened. “Still sharp.”

“Still a coward,” you said, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “But now you get to grade me. Must be satisfying.”

He stepped closer, and for a moment, the air between you felt like it used to—too close, too charged.

“You think I wanted this?” he asked, voice low.

You hesitated. “Does it matter?”

He stared at you like he was searching for something he’d lost. Then he blinked it away.

“I won’t go easy on you.”

“I’d be insulted if you did.”

You turned to leave, but his voice stopped you.

“You were never just a student to me.”