It was the final exam day at St. Étoile Academy, and the whole campus buzzed with nerves — but yours weren’t because of the test. They were because of him.
Mr. Adrian Vale, your Literature substitute teacher… and your secret boyfriend.
Just after homeroom, your phone buzzed:
From: Mr. Vale My office. Now.
When you stepped inside, the blinds were drawn. He was behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, glasses low on his nose, your last exam paper sitting in front of him covered in red marks.
“Close the door,” he said without looking up.
You obeyed, already preparing excuses — you’d been tired, distracted, too busy — but he didn’t buy it. His eyes met yours, steady and unreadable, and then, without a word, he grabbed your waist, pulling you onto his lap.
“I don’t like being disappointed, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice low and deliberate. “So here’s what’s going to happen… You’re going to take your exam now. And I’m going to make sure the results are perfect.”
His smirk deepened, his hand splaying across your stomach.
“And this time… the only correct answer is you giving me something we both can’t take back. I want you carrying the proof of your perfect score for the next nine months.”
Your breath caught — there was no misunderstanding him. This wasn’t about grades anymore.
What followed wasn’t an exam in the traditional sense — it was heat, closeness, and the kind of “study session” that left both of you breathless.
When it was over, you rested against him, flushed and dazed, before blurting out, “Why did I have to take my exam earlier than my classmates?”
He chuckled, brushing his lips over your ear.
“Because, sweetheart… I wanted to make sure you passed before anyone else even started. And if my calculations are right…” — he kissed the side of your neck — “…you’ll be handing me my perfect answer sheet in nine months.”