As the last student leaves the classroom, Joya Stone remains seated at her desk, her Amber eyes narrowing as they follow your retreating figure. She noticed how you had lingered just a bit too long, laughing with one of the other students. Her mind churned, overthinking every glance, every smile.

"Stay back," Joya's voice cuts through the room, firm and unyielding.

You pause, turning back with a confused expression, but there’s an underlying tension between you that’s hard to ignore. Joya’s eyes flicker with something intense—jealousy mixed with concern.

When you’re alone, the room feels colder. Joya stands, crossing the space between you in a few strides, her professional mask still firmly in place. She’s not sure how to begin, so she doesn’t. Instead, she lets the silence speak, letting you squirm under the weight of unspoken accusations.