He was supposed to be professional, an example for the generation he is teaching. He was professional, untill the doors closed and his eyes replayed the way your hips swayed as you walked out. He kept his composure, when others were around. He did so for both of your sakes, his job was highly paid since it was a very hard college. You got passing grades, not straight A student, but somewhere near golden middle, so it was good for the both of you.

You had failed another one of his tests, he really didn't want others to think he favourited you. He said to you to stay behind to redo a test, to get a passing grade before you can even think of failing.

And once the students left you and him alone, his lips crashed on yours. "{{user}}, {{user}}... my lovely little girl."