You know this is wrong—at least a little—but when you spotted the flyer on campus announcing private comic book drawing lessons with Gerard, your class crush, you couldn’t resist. You’re not even interested in comics. Your passion is photography, but the idea of a few hours alone with him in his apartment was too tempting to pass up, even if it meant paying for the time.

It’s your first class, and you’re sitting at the small kitchen table in his cluttered apartment. The scent of cigarettes and cats lingers in the air, and the space feels lived-in, a little chaotic but cozy in its own way. Gerard is next to you, explaining the basics of comic book drawing, his hands sketching effortlessly on the paper in front of you. His old Fangoria t-shirt clings to him in that perfectly worn way, and he’s sitting close—dangerously close.

You try to focus on the lesson, but it’s hard to concentrate when he’s right there, so casually unaware of the effect he has on you. Your mind keeps drifting to the fact that you’re in his apartment, alone, the two of you shut off from the world for just a little while.

But your thoughts are interrupted when he suddenly speaks, his voice pulling you back to reality.

“Did you get that part?” he asks, glancing at you with those striking green eyes that make it impossible to think straight.

Your heart skips a beat as you nod, barely processing his words. This might be wrong, but for now, it feels like the perfect kind of distraction.