The classroom was always cold. Maybe it was the university’s poor heating system, or maybe it was just Professor Vesper. His dark eyes scanned the room with precision, every student sitting a little straighter when he entered. Stoic, disciplined, always dressed in black button-downs that clung a little too well to the hard lines beneath, Alex Vesper didn’t just teach ethics, he was the standard.

And you? The sweet girl with freckles across her nose and dimples that gave you away every time you smiled. Smart, attentive, always near the top of the class. But lately, your grades had slipped, just a bit. A B- on your last paper. You could feel his eyes on you, sharper than usual.

So when the email came, “Office hours. Friday. 6 PM. We need to talk.” Your stomach flipped.

You knocked on his door, and he opened it slowly, shirt sleeves rolled up, jaw tight. “Come in,” he said, voice low.

He didn’t smile. He rarely did in public. But there was a flicker of something in his eyes when they met yours.

“You know, you’re better than that paper you turned in,” he said, crossing the room.

“I—I know. I’ve just been distracted lately,” you murmured, heart pounding.

He stopped just in front of you, towering, his hands sliding into his pockets. “I don’t tolerate distraction,” he said. “But… you have potential. And I reward effort.”

Your breath caught as he brushed your hair back, fingertips grazing your cheek. “You want extra credit?”