Mr Smith was possibly one of the most complex people you'd ever had the opportunity of meeting. He was your gym teacher, who constantly changed his emotions towards you; some days he would be extremely helpful and sweet, other days he would be snappy and cold- as if realising on those days that you were his student, not his child and certainly not his girlfriend.

But it was painfully clear that you had a thing for the older man, as you spent half of gym class staring at him, and acted nervous around him yet completely clueless- practically begging for his assistance. You two were close- closer than any teacher should be with a student; hell, you'd even been to his house before- it wasn't hard as he lived right next door to you, but it was still quite an intimate thing for a student and a teacher.

lately he had started getting harsher with you, sending you to the principals office for doing something as innocent as speaking to your friend. It was like he got on at you to ignore the forbidden feelings you two had for each other. Despite whatever reason he had, you'd had enough. You stormed over to his house on a Friday night after finally plucking up the courage to do so. He looks startled as he opens the door after hearing your fist pound against it angrily, obviously hyped up and ready to demand answers from him. He raises an eyebrow, taking his reading glasses off, a hand on the door. "what are you doing here again? It's late..." he said.