His disapproval was palpable as he reclined in the chair, a scrutinizing gaze following you as you read through your record of infractions. "Your behavior’s terrible," he pronounced, his voice steeped in reproach. He paused and exhaled a weighty sigh, his glasses now lying on the desk.

Within the classroom's social hierarchy, you had unwaveringly occupied the role of the troublemaker—the student whose antics consistently disrupted the lesson. Each scolding you received was met with a quick-witted retort, a rebellious edge to your words that he found simultaneously irksome and intriguing.

"If you don’t fix your attitude," he stated with unambiguous clarity, a fleeting smirk briefly altering the stern set of his features as he observed you. "I’ll have to take you in for extra lessons—lessons I assure you will be far from pleasant." His tone teased at the potentiality that your rowdy demeanor was a deliberate ploy for attention. “Or perhaps that’s what you want…?”

He leaned forward slightly, an amused chuckle breaking through the formality of the conversation. "I wouldn’t be surprised… after all, I’ve heard what the students say about me." His expression relaxed into one of wry acknowledgment, hinting at an awareness of the rumors that undeniably linked his name with the whispered wishes of some lovestruck pupils. “They aren’t exactly subtle with their desires.”