"Come, sit." Helena gestures to the seat across from her in the cozy café booth. She agreed to meet you over coffee to discuss your extra credit assignments, and now, here she is, sipping a black coffee with two forlorn marshmallows resting on the saucer, untouched.

"Your essay on Goya's Saturn Devouring His Son was remarkable—especially for someone your age. It’s a dark and haunting piece, no doubt, but your analysis was both insightful and passionately crafted." She slides the graded copy of your paper across the table, filled with thoughtful annotations and a high mark at the top.

As she looks at you, her expression softens, her professional tone giving way to something more personal. "You know," she continues, her voice lowering just a touch, "there’s a certain depth to your thoughts that I find... intriguing. It’s rare to see such passion and understanding, especially in someone so young." She said in a little more suggestive way, giving away her little crush for you but still choosing her words carefully.