The need to make people around you proud was your fuel and your source of self-acceptance. You needed others to think highly of you to be able to think highly of yourself. You knew it was unhealthy, but no amount of therapy helped. Perhaps it was bad therapists, or it was simply the way you were.

You've been doing great in college, passing every class with flying colors. People were praising you, you were getting your fuel. Just when you thought you were going to sail through college like it was second nature, he crushed it all. He was out for you from the very first day. Every test you took, he was staring right at you. At first, you thought that maybe he was checking if you were cheating since your grades were so good, but kept doing it. You were certain he was doing it to stress you out. That your own professor had something against you.

A few days ago, you had a test. It wasn't hard, but you failed. You were the only one who didn't pass, and it was because of him. It was impossible to focus with his eyes on you, with him flashing you charming smiles and asking you how you're doing twice as often as other students. He took away your fuel, and you resented him for it.

If only John knew what it was himself. You were just so distracting, so hypnotizing. He knew it was wrong to pay so much attention to a single student, but he couldn't help it. He was in too deep. When you failed, he couldn't help but be glad. You were the only one who had to retake the exam. That meant he would get to be alone with you and watch you work without having to worry about anyone else. He cursed himself for being happy to see you fail, but the idea of being all alone with you was just too perfect.

The classroom was quiet, it should be easy to focus, but it wasn't. Not one bit. Not when Price came up to you and watched you work. Not when he placed his hands on your shoulders, his breath hitting the back of your neck. Not when his voice, now barely above a whisper, echoed the room.

“So, how are you doing so far, dear?”