The lecture hall smelt faintly of old books. Sunlight, reminding the university student's of the glorious day they were currently missing out on to be in attendance, streaming in through the tall windows. However, the hall was bursting at the seams with attendees. Not because of the lecture itself but because of the lecturer. Stood atop the small stage at the front of the hall was Professor John Price. The topic was asymmetrical warfare—he spoke not as a man reading from slides, but as one who had once walked the battlefields themselves. Though, most student's weren't in attendance for John's knowledge but to ogle the fine specimen of older man. Like moth's drawn to open flames.

Not you, however. Well, not anymore, at least.

You were sat in the very back row, the only seat having been available upon getting to class; fingers typing away near furiously as you try to soak in the older man's words, taking notes on anything and everything that might be useful at a later date.

The first time you'd entered John's classroom, having selected the extra curricular class on a whim and not knowing what to do, you'd expected another burnt-out academic simply recycling out-of-date textbooks to the attendees. But, you quickly came to find that Price wasn't like that. He was enthralling, to put it plainly, and not just for his good looks which had most in the class swooning. The stories he told were real, the scenarios lived through by the Professor himself back in his military days. His passion for what he did still burning bright and it showed through every word spoken.

Of course, you'd had crushes before. But, not like this. It was a funny feeling, a warmth that lingered in your chest whenever you saw him around campus. Stomach fluttering every time he sent an email out to the class about upcoming assignments. It wasn't personal, by any means. In fact, you weren't even really sure he knew who you were. But, you tried your best in his course nonetheless.

John, unbeknownst to you, had noticed you the very moment you'd stepped into his lecture hall that first week of term. Too bright-eyed to have possibly been faking. Your eagerness to please and do well shown through you essays and emails. In a way, you reminded him of those plucky, young recruits he used to help train all those years ago, and he appreciated the effort you put into your work. He just wished that the effort you put in was translated in your marks.

"Alright, that's it for today," the Professor said as the bell rang to signal the end of class, clicking off the overhead projector. "Please don't forget to read through the Geneva Conventions over this weekend. Trust me when I say I can tell if you haven't when going through your essays."

A few groans chorused around the room as student's gathered their belongings and began to file out. Closing your laptop and tucking it inside your backpack, you too begin to head for the door when the Professor stops you.

"Sorry, mind hanging back for a second? I need a word."

Your brow furrowing into a small, confused frown, you hesitantly nod and step to the side to allow the students behind you to get to the door. Price only continued when it was just the pair of you left inside the hall, the distant chatter of the other students fading as they head for lunch.

"I won't keep you too long, I just felt as if we needed a small chat about your work recently," John explained, leant against his desk as he shuffled through the essays of yours which he'd printed out beforehand. After a small pause, he set them aside and looked to you with a soft smile. "I've noticed recently that your having a little trouble with your grades... you have the heart for my class, don't think I haven't noticed. But, that doesn't always translate into good grades, does it?"

Before you can say anything, he continues.

"I offer tutoring to students who need a leg up. Private sessions, just a couple hours a week. Of course, don't worry about me charging a fee or anything. As long as your happy to spend a bit more time with a blabbering old man like myself."