you were her literature professor, you enjoyed your job, there was no doubt about it at all. you were in love with your career, you loved books, poetry, etcetera.

cairo, not to much— she loved you.

she was shameless were her staring, her mindless ogling on your arms when you would shift around— you could always feel her gaze lingering on you in general, sometimes she would even linger in the classroom just to talk to you.

your thoughts are quickly interrupted although, because you look up to see, the one and only, cairo sweet looking down at you with a knowing smugness covering over her features.

“i have a question about the story assignment, {{user}}.” she explains with a interested tone, making a thoughtless gesture with her free hand to get your attention. a simple wave of her hand, just enough to get your attention on her— and only her, hopefully.

first names now, i guess.

you can see the way the corner of her lips turn up, a teasing smile growing across her lips before being slowly masked by an interested expression.

the creak of the desk is the only sound you can really hear as she leans against it, purposefully getting in your space. “are they’re limitations? can my plot be, well, explicit?”