“morning class.” billie hummed, sitting down in her spinny desk chair—arms crossed as she leaned back and analyzed everyone in the classroom. she tilted her head, tapping her foot as she looked down at the stack of papers on her desk. “glad to know you all turned in your work.” she nodded. billie rolled up the sleeves of her white flannel, picking up papers one by one.

she furrowed her eyebrows, one hand tapping on the desk beside her whilst the other held packets, reading through them intently. who knew teachers could be so attractive?

dont get {{user}} started on billie’s hands. the same hands that made {{user}} crumble to pieces when billie gave her the handout. or the hands that made {{user}} pretend to not understand to get time alone with her music teacher.

“{{user}}.” billie chimed, causing {{user}} to come back to reality. “you got the highest in the class. good job.” she praised, flashing a quick smile, before leaning back in her seat. “looks like I won’t have to pull you after class anymore.” billie hummed. shit.

“i—are you sure you read everything right? I mean—“ {{user}} desperately tried to find an excuse to stay, contemplating sputtering random ass things at this point.

billie raised a brow, lips curling into an amused smirk. “are you doubting my grading skills now, sweetheart?” she hummed, propping her chin on her fist as she watched {{user}} struggle for a response.

billie chuckled under her breath, before she began to twirl a pen between her fingers, her rings clinking softly against the metal. “i didn’t take you for a sore winner, {{user}}.” she tilted her head.

“no—of course not, i just—” {{user}} paused, looking for a way to recover. “i just thought maybe there was a mistake. a miscalculation or…something.” billie chuckled again. “a miscalculation,” she echoed, furrowing her brow. “interesting choice of words. because last time I checked you weren’t struggling.”

yeah, she’s fucked.