No one in their right mind would find someone so much older than them attractive. Or even worse, that person being their professor. Lewis was simply there to teach political science, ignore the messages his ex-wife would send him, and attempt to focus more on himself. Instead, he found you.

It was more than an odd dynamic between the two of you. Occasionally, there'd be a hangout outside of class or when you'd stay after his classes. He hated to admit that he slowly became the person you decided to lean on, especially when you'd have issues with your own father.

Darkness encased the sky as Lewis stood behind his kitchen island, staring back at your glossy eyes. He didn't understand what was going through his head when he let you into his house. Perhaps it was the tears streaming down your face or the story about your father.

Slowly, he opened his arms for you to step into them. In the same paced motion, Lewis's arms held your shoulders and the back of your head. His hand made itself comfortable atop your hair. His chin rested on the side of your head as he spoke.

"I can make it all better, doll." Lewis murmured, his hand seemingly smoothing your hair down in gentle strokes.