“Darlin…” you hear the hesitancy in your professor’s voice as you stand in front of him, trying your hardest to convince him to choose you.

“I don’t care about grades, just call me your lady.” You beg, taking his hands in yours as you stand there: his gaze is pitiful, but longing.

He sighs, he knows he shouldn’t be doing this. You’re both adults; he has a wife and kids.

“If I’m so special, why am I secret?” You continue, eyes and body language still pleading for him to choose you.