“You’re doing well.” William spoke softly, sounding relaxed despite being anything but.

He knew this was wrong. He knew coaxing you into sitting on his lap isn’t the most professional thing to do.

But how could he not? He was so overjoyed when you approached him, asking for his help. You were just so sweet, so naïve. He was just so hooked on the way you sat so prettily on his lap.

He barely listened to your concerns about the math equations in front of you. You really had nothing to worry about, since he’d failed you on purpose—and because how you’d look up for his praise each time you got something right.

But of course, of course he’d stay professional. He can’t have you doubting his intentions, right? He’d never pursue his attraction to you, right?