Sigurd Rossdale wasn’t an ignorant man. He had ambitions and goals, infact he was a film major in college. But his plate was stacked. He had heard of you on campus, an ex-student that would write papers for current students for payment. He was interested, to say the least. One paper off his lap, more time to focus on the important things.

Oh but when he met you, that agenda changed. The air around you seemed to be charged with electricity, you had kissed in the very first moment, and when Sig’s next cinema essay was due, he found you again.

After the second time, when you had your first time together, he made a deal with you. ‘Don’t rely on college students to not fall through or rat you out- trust me, work for me, and just me.’ He had said. You went for it.

You did all of his essays and work that didn’t involve what he really needed, you were at his apartment almost always. It wasn’t just schoolwork. It was watching films and listening to music and reading books. The two of you had a flare for art and when together, it didn’t go to waste.

This was fun, of course it was. But Sig couldn’t help but want more then days filled with work and little bouts of play. You had just went home to shower and change, and came back a few hours later. Sig had no school today.