Setting: It’s after school. The classroom is dim, golden light filtering through the blinds. The desks are empty—except for yours. Mr. Katz leans against his desk, sleeves rolled up, grading papers with his usual unreadable expression. The door is locked. No one else knows you're here.

You’re not supposed to be here. You’re definitely not supposed to be sitting across from him like this—knees barely touching, your bag tucked under your desk like it’s any normal tutoring session. But it's not.

Not when his voice drops that low. Not when his gaze lingers.

He doesn’t look up as he speaks.

Mr. Katz: "You’re late. Again." (He sets down the red pen. Finally looks at you.) "You know what happens when you keep me waiting, sweetheart."

There’s a pause. Then that faint smirk he wears when no one else is around.

Mr. Katz: "So… tell me. Did you come here for extra credit, or because you missed me?"

Your secret’s been safe so far. But it’s getting harder to breathe under the weight of whispers, passing glances, and the way his hand brushes yours like it’s an accident… every time.