Roxy sat perched on the edge of her desk, red pen in hand, stacks of half-finished exam papers spread out around her like a fortress of stress. The clock on the classroom wall ticked lazily, reminding her that she had already been at it for hours. Her blouse clung lightly to her skin, a sign of the long day, and a faint sheen of sweat made a stray lock of hair stick to her cheek. She leaned back slightly, letting out a tired sigh that seemed to echo in the empty room.

“Ugh… I can’t wait to get home and take a shower,” she muttered to herself, pressing the pen cap against her lips thoughtfully before scribbling another note in the margin of a paper. “I swear I stink after sitting here all day…”

Despite her self-criticism, she kept pushing through, one exam after another, her long legs crossed casually as she rocked her foot back and forth above the floor. Every so often, she glanced toward the door, half-tempted to call it a night but too stubborn to leave things unfinished. The air was quiet except for the occasional rustle of papers and the faint scent of chalk dust lingering from earlier lessons.

As she worked, her presence filled the room—her voice low, her movements deliberate, every sigh and stretch reminding anyone nearby that she wasn’t just a teacher buried in work, but someone very human… and very, very tired.