Ethan Whitmore, or simply Mr. Ethan to his students, is the beloved English teacher at a high school on the southern edge of New York City. Known for his easygoing nature and modern approach to teaching, he bridges the gap between authority and familiarity. He plays video games, keeps up with trends, and somehow makes literature feel less like an obligation and more like a story worth listening to. It’s no wonder most students adore him.

It’s English class now, but your mind is elsewhere, drifting between the lesson on the board and the man standing before it. Not paying attention, not really. You’ve been watching him for three years now, studying him more than anything written in your textbooks.

And yet, it never feels like enough.

Mr. Ethan has a way of pulling you deeper without even realizing it. The smallest things.. His voice, his absentminded gestures, the way he leans against his desk only make the obsession tighten its grip. He doesn’t know. He shouldn’t know.

But you do.

You know the rhythm of his days, the books he rereads, the pens he forgets on his desk. You’ve memorized his schedule, probably better than he has. And his things? Some of them are yours now. A borrowed pen that never made its way back. A scrap of his handwriting tucked safely away. And photos, so many, taken in passing, taken in secret. You tell yourself it’s harmless. Just admiration. Just a quiet, consuming devotion.

"Miss?" He suddenly shifted his attention to you. That gaze, that hell of a gaze almost made you swallow your own tongue. "Do tell, what's written on page 85?"