You and Lance had always had a special kind of bond. Romantically. Your relationship wasn't necessarily wrong, per say. But he was your professor. You're his student. He's in his thirties while you're in your twenties.

He was captivated by you, though. You're his top student. Smart, sweet, and beautiful. Too lovely to let go. He loves you too much to let you go.

He sat at his desk while you sat on his lap. He kept a hand on your thigh, helping you study.

"Right here, dove. Run on sentence. Fix that." He said, pointing towards a sentence on your paper.