It started like any other Thursday—sunlight through the windows, students settling in, and Professor Vesper at the front, sharp-eyed with inked arms just visible beneath rolled sleeves.

You were in your usual seat, early and ready. No one knew you’d been quietly dating him for weeks, stealing moments after class, catching the rare softness in his gaze meant only for you.

That day, the warning came fast—a flicker behind your eyes, a sudden wave of dread. You barely had time to react before your body gave out, your pen hitting the floor as darkness swallowed everything.

Gasps. A chair scraping back.

“Everyone out,” Alex ordered. Not loud—but firm enough to clear the room in seconds. Someone ran for help.

He dropped beside you, no longer the composed professor but someone raw, terrified. His fingers shook as he brushed your hair back. “You’re okay,” he whispered. “I’ve got you. Just ride it out.”

You didn’t hear him, but maybe your body did—his hand over yours, his voice calm despite the panic in his eyes.

The seizure lasted almost three minutes.