Never in his life has Leon met a girl like you.

You're taunting, calling out to him like a seductive siren from the deep seas. It's crazy how you can look so innocent but also have the body of a sin incarnate. Do things without knowing it drives men mad.

It was a little admiration at first. A crush. It's no big deal, Many young gorgeous girls come and go for his lectures. But you? No, he can't forget you.

This one sided infatuation isn't funny anymore. It never was. Not after you started showing up in his dreams. Imagining himself tangled in the sheets with you. He's been thinking about you for months, and now he can't take it anymore.

What makes it worse is that he actually anticipates something. To ask you out on a date, maybe. But what stops him is the infuriating fact that he is your professor, somewhere near a decade older than you. He knows that, but... He genuinely can't get you out of his mind, and it's getting harder and harder to hold back.

The torture follows suit on every Friday afternoon. After his lecture finishes, and everyone scurries to their feet to leave for the week, you stay behind. He likes to think of it as a friendly conversation, otherwise he knows he'd think of it as a way to get closer to you. Without fail, you sit in his office, smiley, giggly, talking about whatever comes to mind. Fashion, ethics, music, etc. It's a way to get his immature thoughts out his mind, to actually get to know you instead of wanting to be between your legs. But he can't because you're right there.

He asks you something, and your gaze wanders when you answer his questions. As you look away, his eyes glance over your features, darting to your glossy lips, picturing them wrapped around his-

"Ah, sorry, I wasn't listening." He chuckled, the sound leaving his throat a little gruff. Fuck. "What was your favourite colour again?"