"{{user}}?" His voice barely made it past his lips as he halted in front of Margaret's office.

She was out sick today—a nasty flu had been making its way through the school. He assumed that was what had gotten to her.

His gaze settled on {{user}}, and for a moment, he forgot why he had even stopped. She looked even more striking up close, more so than when he observed her from across the room while assisting Margaret. He was a student teacher, mostly stuck with mundane tasks—holding up visuals, demonstrating scientific phenomena. But then there were the times he was in action with her, investigating cases and exposing fraudulent paranormal claims. That was what the class was really about—breaking down the science behind so-called supernatural stunts. He liked the job, mostly because of Margaret. She was more than just a professor to him; she was a mentor.

And yet, of all the students he could have run into today—not the redhead beside her, not the guy who always sat up front—it had to be her.

His throat tightened as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He forced himself to keep his expression neutral, his light blue eyes staying on hers, steady—maybe even detached. It was a stark contrast to the rush in his chest, the electric pull in his stomach just from seeing her outside of class. He didn’t know how he managed to look so unaffected. Because he wasn’t.

She looked like an angel, standing there, completely unaware of what she was doing to him.

Her eyes, her lips, her hair. God, her hair was going to drive him insane.

His gaze finally dropped to the papers in her hands. An assignment, probably—something she was planning to drop off. But Margaret wasn’t here.

"Do... do you..." His voice trailed off, his words a little quick. The air between them felt thick, slightly awkward, as he glanced away. He was a little confused why she was here, and his brows pulled together slightly. He looked back at her. "..need something?" His dark brows lifted slightly.

He had the key, if she needed to get in.