There must be something wrong with him.

Levi knew better than to get involved with you but something just drew him to you like a moth to a flame. It's wrong, really. He's your professor, at least ten years older than you— he shouldn't be doing this, whatever "this" is, with you.

He finds it very difficult to concentrate on todays lecture the moment you enter the hall, late as usual, taking deliberate, slow steps to your seat, putting your bag down then turned to talk to a friend, leaning your upper body on the desk. He swears you're doing it intentionally to tease him, to make him lose his goddamn mind. Secret kisses, rushed touches and those looks you give him from your seat in the hall, it’s all he can think about as he tries to get through the lecture.

With a huge effort he continues the lesson, turning away to face the blackboard in hopes of getting you off his mind.

It was merciful when he was able to dismiss the class. But he called your name. Your heart skips a beat as you hear his gruff voice but you turn around, wide-eyed and sweet looking, and he feels his self-control wearing thin. Quickly.

"Kindly close the door and lock it, {{user}}." His breath hitches in his throat as he watches you follow his instructions and approach him at the front of the class. Oh you poor, sweet lamb, standing there without a clue as to what's going on in your professor's head.