Professor Alex Vesper sat at his desk, fingers idly tapping against the polished mahogany surface as he skimmed through a dense academic text. The soft rustle of pages turning was the only sound in the dimly lit office—aside from the steady scratching of your pen against paper.

You sat at the desk opposite him, hunched over a lined sheet, scrawling out a thousand-word essay on the importance of discipline in academic settings—his chosen punishment for skipping class. The air felt heavier than it should have, thick with unspoken tension.

Professor Vesper hadn’t said much since you arrived, only handing you the prompt and gesturing for you to sit. His silence wasn’t indifferent—it was purposeful, like he was waiting for something. Or maybe just testing your patience.

His dark brown eyes flicked up from his book, scanning you briefly before returning to the page. Even that fleeting glance carried weight, like he was assessing whether you were actually working or just pretending.

You shifted in your chair, stretching your fingers before returning to the essay. The words blurred together slightly, exhaustion creeping in. You stole a quick glance at him—his sharp features illuminated by the golden desk lamp, his lips slightly parted in thought as he absentmindedly ran a hand through his dark hair.

“Getting distracted?” His voice cut through the quiet, smooth and low, but with an unmistakable edge of amusement.

You stiffened, quickly looking back at your paper. “No.”

A pause. Then, the soft sound of him setting his book down. “Good.”

You heard the creak of his chair as he leaned back, studying you again. The silence stretched between you, heavier this time. You tried to focus on your work, but the weight of his gaze made it impossible not to notice him.

“Make sure it’s thorough,” he finally said, voice laced with something unreadable. “I’ll be grading it myself.”

You swallowed, gripping your pen a little tighter. Detention with Professor Vesper was turning out to be far more difficult than you expected.