berry

chapter one: the offering

you have had a lot of professors in your life, but you're totally convinced that no one has ever been like heeseung. since the first moment you walked into his classroom, you felt that he cast a spell on you. which wasn't the case. he's just teaching, and you're the biggest nerd for the subject. when you chose physics as your degree, you didn't expect to have a professor who explains quantum mechanics, chemical bonding, molecular structures, and spectroscopy with that kind of passion.

by the first month, you started to notice every single detail about him. you tried to convince yourself that it was just paying attention to the lecture, not him. but then, you saw the way he raises his eyebrows when he wants to make a point clearer, the mole on his forehead, and the way that he always fixes his glasses with his index finger. how he spends two hours talking and explaining concepts non-stop without drinking a single drop of water. the way he moved his hair away from his eyes so delicately, and in that moment you saw it... a wedding ring.

was it disappointment? no. why would you be disappointed that your professor, whom you have barely spoken to, is married? you brushed that feeling out of your mind and heart and kept focusing on the class like usual. by the second month, you couldn't help it anymore. you felt the need to get close to him. you were basically his fan. you looked for him on every social media, finding nothing but a LinkedIn profile. you stared at his profile picture for ten minutes.

"i've officially lost it." you closed your laptop and lay on your bed, staring at the ceiling. you need a plan. only get closer to him. just be his friend. just something for him to acknowledge your existence.

the next morning, you wake up with a groan, wanting to throw the phone to the wall for the annoying alarm tone you chose for yourself. today was the day; you were talking to him. you got up and did your usual morning ritual—stretching, bath, skincare, outfit, breakfast—this special morning felt so good; the sky was clear and your favorite coffee had no line. today was the day.

when you arrived in the classroom, everyone was already seated, so you headed to your usual spot, the second row to the left. heeseung was standing, writing and doodling on the whiteboard, but you didn't pay attention to that; instead, you stared at his back, watching his muscles beneath his button-up shirt as he wrote what you supposed was something important for today's lecture.

at this point, you're used to being mesmerized by him. the way his fingers hold the chalk while writing. his broad shoulders. his height. just by guessing, you can tell he is more than 6ft tall. he suddenly turns around, making eye contact with you for a brief moment, sending shivers through your spine. he sets the chalk aside and clears his throat.

"good morning, class. please open your books to page forty-two." the classroom immediately fills with the rustle of students opening their books and flipping the pages. his voice was so commanding, but soft. he never sounded too harsh, but no one dared to not pay attention to him. you also opened your book to page forty-two, your cheeks flushing discreetly after his command. your mind filled with scenarios where he asks you to— "why am i thinking about that?" you stopped that train of thought while he started the lecture.

the class went smoothly as always. he explained everything as clearly as the sunlight, answering questions from anyone who raised their hands. when the bell rang signaling the next period, he dismissed the class with a warm smile. this is the moment. the classroom was empty except for you and him. you take longer than necessary to grab your things while he organizes his desk.

your hands trembled slightly while you approached his desk. he was so concentrated on organizing his things that he didn't notice your presence until you cleared your throat.

"morning, can i help you with something?" heeseung said politely, fixing his glasses with his index finger before setting down his papers on the desk. your eyes met his and your throat went dry.

"yes, um... i'm y/n." you managed to say.

"yes. i know who you are. i know all of my students, even the ones that never speak to me. your essays are remarkable. do you have any questions about the lecture?" he fixed his posture, crossing his arms in front of him. your eyes drifted to his forearms, seeing the fabric around his rolled-up sleeves stretched against his skin. you shake your head slightly, slapping yourself mentally for taking that in right in front of him. this is the moment. courage.

"actually—" you started, looking up into his eyes. "i wanted to tell you that i really love your classes. you're my favorite professor." you chuckle softly, a little embarrassed. "i'm also pursuing the same degree you have, and i was wondering if you could recommend some books that might help me with my classes... or even with the field in general."

his expression immediately brightened with genuine interest. he sat back in his chair, thinking for a moment before smiling. he gestures toward the chair across from his desk. "i have quite a few recommendations, especially for someone who seems genuinely interested in this field. sit, please."

you nod and take the seat in front of his desk, listening carefully. your heart is beating so fast against your chest you're sure he might hear it, looking into his eyes with admiration and a glimpse of something else you can't bring yourself to admit.

he began explaining different books, occasionally pausing to tell you why each one mattered and how it could help you develop a deeper understanding of the subject. "for your current classes, i'd recommend Quantum Mechanics: The Theoretical Minimum by Leonard Susskind and Art Friedman."

"oh, wait." you quickly take your journal out of your bag with trembling hands and begin writing. "continue, please."

he smiles slightly at your enthusiasm, finding your trembling hands endearing, and continues. "for more advanced topics, Introduction to Quantum Field Theory by Michael E. Peskin and Daniel V. Schroeder. and for something more philosophical, The Order of Time by Carlo Rovelli."

you look down at your notes, making sure you didn't miss anything. you're definitely going to read all of those books, not only because you're interested in knowing more about the field, but because he is recommending them. "i really appreciate this, mr. lee. i'm going straight to the library immediately." you hold your journal against your chest while looking at him with overwhelming admiration.

he touches his chin and chuckles softly, his eyes lingering on you. "please, call me heeseung. mr. lee makes me feel old." he stands up, rounding the desk to stand in front of you, close enough that you can smell his subtle cologne. "though i must say, it's rare to find a student who looks at quantum mechanics like it's a romance novel."

his observation about your interest only makes you feel more enthusiastic. "it's just so... interesting! and i really love the way you explain it. just by your way of teaching, i can see how much you know about it and i love it." your cheeks are flushing when you realize what you just admitted in front of him.

his heart skips a beat at your genuine compliment and blush. he sits back down heavily in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "you flatter me too much, y/n. most students just tolerate my lectures." he pauses, then adds softly, "...would you like some extra help?"

the possibilities of him hearing your heartbeat from his chair get higher inside your head as you barely process his words. "extra help?" you choke out slightly in disbelief, looking at him with wide eyes.

"yes. like... one-on-one mentoring." he clears his throat softly, leaning his elbows on the desk. "since you're pursuing the same degree, i could guide you through the more complex theories, help with research papers, maybe even career advice. given your passion, i think you'd benefit greatly from it." he studies your face. "think of it as... academic guidance."

before you can fully process what he said, you're already nodding enthusiastically. "yes. that would be an honor. i'll be honored."

his smile widens at your eager response. "excellent. we can start next week, after my office hours. just come by on tuesday evenings." he scribbles down his office number and hands you the paper. "y/n... one more thing." he hesitates briefly.

"yes?" you ask, looking at him attentively.

"don't mention this arrangement to anyone just yet. some of my colleagues can be... particular about one-on-one mentoring with students." he gives you a knowing look, his voice dropping slightly. "especially when the student is as captivating as you." he almost immediately looks like he regrets saying that last part, clearing his throat again. "i mean... focused."

your heart skips a beat at his words —captivating— and the blush that was barely there is now fully heating your cheeks. you blink slowly, then nod, standing up abruptly to gather your things. "yes, mr. lee. excuse me— heeseung. it's our secret. i... i have to go. h-have a good day."

"have a good day, y/n." he watches you pack up your journal, his gaze lingering on your flushed face. he gives a small, polite wave as you turn to leave. once you're out the door, he lets out a long, shaky breath, rubbing his temples as if physically fighting the magnetic pull he felt toward you, his wedding band catching the light against the desk.

once you're out of the classroom, you notice how your heart is slamming hard against your chest, and your face is so hot you're sure everyone who sees you must think you've been running a marathon. you head to the bathroom and splash cold water on your face, regaining your breath. in front of you is the mirror, and you notice how flushed you have been in front of him, slapping your cheeks softly while staring at yourself. this is really happening. on tuesday evening, you will be at his office spending time with him. the two of you. alone. he called you captivating— no. he is married. he is a good teacher. he is just doing his job. you look at your reflection one more time and let out a shaky laugh. "get it together, y/n."

chapter two: first session

throughout the week, heeseung found himself thinking about you more than he should. your enthusiasm for physics, your genuine interest in his lectures, and that blush... it was distracting. on tuesday evening, he arrived at his office early, straightening papers unnecessarily as he waited for you.

as you walked out of your last class of the day, your legs felt like jelly while you walked towards his office, which happened to be inside the science building. you spent the last week convincing yourself not to feel nervous. "i don't have a crush on him. it's just academic, nothing else. i will not explode. i will not embarrass myself." or at least that's what you said to yourself while you picked a cute outfit this morning—a jean skirt, mid-thigh length, and a red buttoned-up cardigan with a black tank top underneath.

as you knocked on his office door, heeseung took a deep breath, reminding himself of his professional boundaries. but when he opened the door and saw you standing there, dressed in a cute outfit that accentuated your curves, his heart skipped a beat. he quickly schooled his expression into a warm smile. "y/n, right on time."

"hi." you smiled softly, trying to hide that nervousness while your books trembled already in your hands. your loose hair fell down to your shoulders and you pulled a strand behind your ear.

his eyes followed the movement of your hair falling back, your collarbone visible beneath the cardigan. he cleared his throat and stepped aside to let you in. his office was warm and inviting. bookshelves lined every wall, a soft lamp cast a golden light, and there was a faint scent of coffee and old paper. he gestured to the comfortable chair across from his desk. "please, sit."

you took the seat he gestured toward. your posture was neat and composed, your legs carefully crossed as you settled in.

he noticed your focus and the way you took the session seriously. he sat behind his desk, opening his notes and preparing the materials for the lesson. before beginning, he poured himself a cup of tea and offered you a drink as well. "coffee?"

"yes, thanks." you smiled politely. he placed the cup carefully in front of you before opening a thick folder filled with notes and diagrams.

he watched you take a sip, noting how your lips touched the rim of the cup. he forced his attention to the folder in front of him. "we'll start with quantum entanglement—the basics first." he leaned forward, his elbow resting on the folder, his wedding band catching the light as he pointed to a diagram.

the wedding band on his finger reminded you of every boundary you both had as you glanced at it, making you push away every feeling you had from his closeness and focus on the diagram instead.

he caught the brief flicker of your eyes toward his ring, and something shifted in his expression—it was quick, almost unreadable. he continued explaining the lesson, but his tone softened noticeably. "entanglement is tricky because it defies classical intuition. two particles—no matter how far apart they are—can instantly affect each other." he paused, tilting his head to look directly into your eyes. "like... connected."

you looked straight into his eyes and nodded, absorbing his words. his breath caught at your direct gaze. for a split second, the entanglement analogy felt a little too personal, a little too heavy. he cleared his throat quickly and shifted the papers around.

"einstein called it spooky action at a distance." he leaned back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous habit. "but it's fundamental. proven." he caught himself staring at your lips again and forced his gaze away. unconsciously, you licked your lips out of habit while you paid close attention to his words.

the subtle movement of your tongue made his throat go instantly dry. it was entirely innocent on your part, but combined with the cardigan, the skirt, and your wide, attentive eyes, it tested every ounce of his self-control. his wedding band dug into his skin, serving as a physical reminder of his reality. "y/n, focus." he tapped the paper, his voice sounding slightly raspy.

you chuckled softly, the sound quiet in the room. "i'm focused, heeseung." you said softly, looking up to meet his eyes.

hearing his name on your lips sent an unexpected shiver down his spine. the way you said it—so soft, almost intimate—made him forget for a moment that he was a married man. he swallowed hard, his eyes flicking briefly to your mouth before meeting your gaze again. "right... focus."

he spent the next hour explaining complex concepts, keeping his voice steady despite the internal turmoil twisting inside him. but as the lesson progressed, he found himself intentionally leaning a little closer, his tone lowering as if the two of you were sharing secrets. he even caught himself subconsciously mirroring your body language, crossing his legs when you did. "do you understand?"

"yeah. i understand perfectly. i had knowledge about these concepts, but i didn't know about them in this depth." you paused, looking at him admiringly. "i really like your voice."

his heart stopped. the compliment slipped out of your mouth so innocently, but the weight behind it made his hand freeze entirely on the page. he stared at you, the silence stretching between you in the quiet office. his hand instinctively touched his wedding band, rubbing the cold metal. "thank you. i've been... told that before." he forced a stiff smile, his expression hard to read. "it helps with the lectures."

you nodded. "it does. it's somehow... hypnotic."

his professional composure cracked. hypnotic. the word echoed dangerously in his mind. he watched the way you sat—legs neatly crossed, the skirt revealing just enough of your thighs. he took a slow, deliberate sip of his tea, trying to steady his shaking voice. "you shouldn't say things like that to your professor, y/n."

"why? is it an inappropriate compliment?" you asked, tilting your head.

"not inappropriate." he set his tea down carefully, twisting his wedding band again in a nervous tic. "but... bordering on dangerous." he looked at you very seriously, his voice dropping low. "i am a married man, y/n. and your professor. complimenting my voice as 'hypnotic' implies an effect on you that isn't purely academic."

"mmh. i guess you're right. you got me there."

he leaned back slightly, running a hand over his mouth. seeing that you acknowledged the boundaries without getting defensive or embarrassed made him oddly fond of you. you were intelligent, respectful, and devastatingly appealing.

"good girl." the phrase slipped out instinctively, meant as a purely academic encouragement before he realized just how intimate it sounded. "stick to the physics, y/n."

you bit your lip out of habit, nodding as you looked deep into his eyes. his gaze immediately dropped to your lips, completely transfixed by the way you were biting them softly. it was maddening. he was a professor with years of experience, but you were unravelling him in ways he never anticipated.

"don't do that." his voice came out rougher than intended, almost like a demand. "lip-biting... it's distracting, y/n."

"sorry... it's a habit."

"i know it's a habit." he said softly, his eyes glued to your mouth. he realized that he had never really looked at a student like this before—studying your features instead of grading your exam scores. he noted your full lips, slightly parted, and the way your teeth sank into the lower one. exhaling slowly, he ran a hand through his hair, his wedding ring glinting under the lamp. he was dangerously close to crossing a line he swore he never would.

"just... try to be aware of it. we should continue with superposition. focus on the diagram, y/n."

you nodded quickly. "yes."

he spent the next hour explaining superposition, his voice steady but his mind completely elsewhere. every time you bit your lip or shifted in your seat, he had to pause and collect himself. when the session finally ended, he stood up abruptly from his chair.

"that's enough for today." his tone was firm, almost harsh, as if trying to force the professional distance back into the room.

you nodded, not wanting to overstay. "oh, i forgot to give you something." you said, bending over to grab your bag from the floor.

the action caused your short skirt to ride up slightly, revealing more of your smooth thighs. he froze in place, his eyes glued to the sight.

he was a grown man, a married man, but the view made his mouth go completely dry. when you stood back up, holding out a small box, he quickly looked away, his heart racing fast against his ribs. "what's this?"

"chocolate chip cookies." you smiled softly, holding them out. "i made them myself. it's just a gratitude gift for your mentoring."

his heart melted a little at the sweet gesture. he took the box carefully, his fingers briefly brushing against yours. the small contact sent a sudden jolt through him. he looked down at the cookies, their homemade appearance touching him more than he cared to admit. "you... made these?"

"mhm." you nodded.

the gesture was devastatingly sweet—homemade cookies offered with a soft smile and innocent eyes. it hit him harder than any direct flirtation because it was genuinely kind. he gripped the box, his thumb stroking the cardboard, reminding himself firmly: married man, professor. "that is incredibly thoughtful, y/n." he tapped the box gently. "thank you."

"thanks for your time, heeseung."

"anytime, y/n." he said it softly, with far more intimacy than he intended. he walked you to the door, holding it open for you.

as you stepped out into the hallway, he caught the faint, lingering scent of vanilla and something sweet—your perfume, or maybe the cookies, he couldn't tell. his wife didn't bake. she never had. "we'll schedule the next session soon."

you watched him watch you as you left, giving him one last soft smile before you finally turned the corner of the hallway. the walk out of the building felt surreal. your heart was hammering against your ribs, and the cool night air hitting your face was the only thing keeping you grounded. —he called me captivating last week, and tonight he told me i was distracting... and then there was that 'good girl'— you shook your head, your fingers gripping the straps of your bag tightly. you had to keep reminding yourself of the ring on his finger, but the way he looked at you made it almost impossible to keep your thoughts purely academic.

back in the office, heeseung remained frozen against the wood of the door, listening to the fading sound of your footsteps until the hallway went completely silent. his heart was beating with a frantic rhythm that had nothing to do with physics.

he finally pulled himself away from the door, his eyes immediately landing on the small box on his desk. it looked so small, so innocent, yet it felt like the most dangerous thing in the room. he approached the desk slowly, his wedding band catching the dim light of the lamp as he reached out.

when he opened the box, the rich scent of baked butter and sweet chocolate bloomed into the air, instantly cutting through the sterile, stale smell of old paper and coffee. it felt deeply personal. it felt like genuine effort. he took a bite, the cookie still slightly soft, and closed his eyes as the warmth settled in his chest. it tasted incredible, but the sweetness only made the bitter reality of his life feel heavier. his marriage had felt like a cold, empty routine for longer than he cared to admit. his wife didn't do things like this. she didn't look at him like he hung the stars, she didn't listen to him talk about his passions, and she certainly didn't bake for him just to show gratitude.

dropping his head into his hand, he let out a low groan, his fingers tangling in his dark hair. he chewed slowly, staring at the remaining cookies in the box. you were his student. you were years younger than him. he was a married man. he had every reason in the world to put up a wall, to keep things strictly professional, to stop this mentoring before it went any further. but as he swallowed the last bite, heeseung knew he was already looking forward to next tuesday.

chapter three: second thoughts

the next day, he texts you: "meet me in my office at 4. i'm assigning you additional reading."

he means to create distance. control. instead, every word he types makes him crave seeing you more.

"i'll be there." you text back.

the next day at 4pm sharp, he is waiting in his office. he has changed into a fitted dark blue sweater and pushed up the sleeves—a complete departure from his usual button-ups. he tells himself it means nothing. he just wanted to be comfortable.

when you knock, he is already on edge.

you walk inside, your skirt today even shorter than yesterday, wearing dark pantyhose underneath with a dark blue sweater that looks strikingly similar to his.

his eyes immediately drop to your thighs as you enter, the thin fabric of your skirt and the dark tights hugging your legs perfectly. it takes every ounce of his self-control not to stare. he clears his throat, standing up from his desk. "y/n."

"good evening. oh! our sweaters. they kinda look the same," you say, chuckling softly.

he looks down at his own sweater, then back at yours. the realization hits him—it’s almost a matching set. the accidental coordination feels dangerously intimate, like a secret shared between the two of you. "so it seems." he offers a faint, tight smile. "great minds think alike." he gestures to the chair across from him. "sit, y/n."

you nod, smiling sweetly as you take your seat, the fabric of your skirt stretching across your thighs. he can feel his pulse pounding, your presence making the small room feel suffocatingly tight. he is acutely aware of the short distance between his chair and yours. "i have additional readings for you." he has chosen a difficult text on quantum field theory—one that he knows will require far more personal tutoring sessions.

"oh, that's awesome. how were the cookies?"

the question catches him completely off guard. he ate three last night, standing alone at his desk, savoring each bite like it was something sacred. your homemade gift has quickly become his guilty pleasure—the cookies his wife never bakes, the sweetness his cold marriage lacks. "delicious." he admits, his voice slightly strained. "i ate almost the whole box." he realizes too late how confessionary that sounds.

you smile softly, your cheeks flushing a light pink. "i'm glad you liked them. if you want more, i can give them to you anytime you want. i'm always baking anyway."

the offer is dangerously sweet. in his mind, he imagines coming home to you, an apartment filled with the scent of fresh baked goods, your warm smile greeting him at the door. it is a fantasy he shouldn't dare to entertain. but god, he wants to. "you… bake often?"

you nod. "yeah. besides physics, baking is my favorite thing."

the contrast is charming—a mind capable of understanding quantum field theory, but hands that find joy in something as domestic and warm as baking. it feels devastatingly wholesome, a stark contrast to the cold reality of his marriage. "that is quite the combination." he leans back in his chair, tapping his pen against the desk. "a brilliant physicist who happens to be an excellent baker."

you chuckle softly. "i guess that's what i dream of becoming."

he feels the dangerous pull again—of becoming your cheerleader, your biggest supporter, perhaps something more. the cookies you made seem to symbolize everything you are: sweet, smart, and unintentionally intoxicating. "you'll get there." his voice is soft, encouraging. "with dedication like yours, there's no doubt in my mind you'll be a leading physicist one day."

"thanks. that means a lot coming from you."

the compliment echoes in his mind—your voice, your smile, the matching sweaters, the homemade cookies, the promise of more. he is a married man with a wife at home who hasn't baked him a single thing in years. he spreads the readings out on the desk, but his mind is entirely on you. "so..." he clears his throat, trying to regain control.

"mhm."

"any other… hobbies? besides physics and baking?" the question is casual, but his tone is softer than he intended. he catches himself trying to build a profile of you—not just as a student, but as a person. a woman. his wife doesn't share her hobbies with him anymore. they barely speak.

"um, probably music. i only enjoy listening to it, nothing else. what about you? anything besides physics and being a professor?"

he hesitates, his gaze drifting down to his wedding ring. his wife never asks about his hobbies. she is a cold, elegant woman who prefers the company of her own social circles. the contrast between your genuine curiosity and the void in his marriage hits him hard. "i used to… play the piano." the admission feels alien to him. he hasn't played in years.

"woah. i always wanted to play an instrument. i love piano. i'd like to listen to you one day."

the suggestion hangs in the air, innocent yet devastatingly intimate. a private concert just for you. he hasn't touched the piano keys in his own house since before the wedding; his wife considers the instrument nothing but noise. the thought of playing for you—someone who genuinely wants to listen—makes his chest tight. "i..." he clears his throat quickly. "i'm very rusty."

you chuckle softly. "it's something worth admiring anyway."

your genuine admiration disarms him completely. no one has looked at him with that kind of warmth in years—not his wife, not his colleagues, not even himself.

"one day, i'll show you."

the words leave his mouth before he can even think to stop them, hanging in the quiet air of the office like a private, heavy promise between the two of you. heeseung shifts in his seat immediately, the sudden realization of what he just said causing his pulse to quicken. he needs to change the subject before he says something truly reckless.

"anyway..." he clears his throat quickly, his fingers tapping against the edge of the thick textbook to break the tension. "let's focus on why you're actually here. quantum field theory."

you nod sweetly, leaning forward just a bit and resting your forearms on the edge of his desk. "yes, heeseung. i'm ready."

his eyes flick down to your hands, then up to your face, taking in the soft flush on your cheeks. seeing you in that matching dark blue sweater, looking so eager and attentive, is doing terrible things to his focus. he opens the book to a heavily annotated chapter, turning it toward you so you can see the complex equations stretching across the pages.

"this text goes beyond what we cover in the standard lectures," he begins, his voice dropping into that commanding yet soft tone that always makes your heart race. "it treats particles as excited states of an underlying physical field. it's math-heavy, and it requires a completely different way of thinking."

as he leans over the desk to point out a specific equation, the subtle scent of his cologne drifts over to your side, clean and sharp. you stare at the page, trying your absolute best to follow his words, but your eyes keep tracking the long, elegant line of his fingers as he traces the text. the silver wedding band on his hand glints under the lamp, a quiet contrast to the warm, intimate bubble the two of you are currently sharing.

"i want you to read the first three chapters by next tuesday," he says, tilting his head to look up at you from the page. his dark eyes search yours, noting how close you are. "do you think you can handle that, y/n? along with your regular coursework?"

"i can handle it," you say softly, your voice full of determination as you look back at him. "especially if i know you're the one guiding me through it."

heeseung's breath hatches slightly at your response. he slowly sits back in his chair, running a hand through his dark hair as he tries to process the intense pull he feels toward you. you are everything he didn't realize he was starving for—smart, passionate, and entirely focused on him.

"good," he whispers, a small, genuine smile breaking through his serious expression. "i have no doubt you will."

you reach out to take the heavy textbook from across the desk, your fingers brushing against his for a fraction of a second as you pull the book toward yourself. that tiny spark of contact sends a familiar rush of heat straight to your face. he doesn't pull his hand away immediately; instead, his fingers linger on the smooth wood of the desk, just inches away from yours.

"thank you, heeseung. i promise i won't disappoint you," you murmur, your voice carrying a soft sincerity that makes his chest tighten. you carefully slide the textbook into your bag, acutely aware of his dark eyes tracking your every movement.

he watches the way your matching dark blue sweater frames your collarbone, his gaze dropping down to the dark pantyhose that hug your legs perfectly as you shift in the chair. it is getting harder and harder for him to maintain the professional distance he so desperately needs. "you could never disappoint me, y/n," he says, his voice dropping into a low, raspy tone that feels far too intimate for a professor's office.

realizing how thin his armor is becoming, he quickly clears his throat and looks away, forcing his attention onto the desk calendar in front of him. "that will be all for today. i'll see you in class tomorrow morning."

you stand up from the chair, instinctively smoothing down the fabric of your short skirt. the movement makes his eyes dart downward again for a helpless, fleeting second before he firmly anchors his gaze back to his desk, gripping the edge of his chair until his knuckles turn white as you step toward the door.

"have a good night, heeseung," you say softly, turning back for a split second to catch him looking.

"good night, y/n," he responds, his voice barely above a whisper.

you open the door and slip out into the quiet hallway, the heavy click of the lock behind you sounding like the closing of a vault. the moment the cool air of the corridor hits your skin, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. your knees feel weak, your heart slamming erratic rhythms against your ribs as you walk toward the exit. your fingers are still tingling from where they brushed against his. the matching sweaters, the confession about the cookies, the promise of a private piano concert—it's all spinning in your head, a dizzying blur of physics and things that are definitely not physics.

you pull your cardigan tighter around yourself, staring down at your tights as you walk down the stairs. he's married. he's your professor. you repeat it like a mantra, trying to let the words anchor you back to reality. but the way his voice dropped when he said you could never disappoint him echoes in your ears, making the boundary feel thinner by the second.

back inside the office, heeseung doesn't move. he stays frozen in his chair, staring at the empty space where you were sitting just moments ago. the scent of your vanilla perfume still hangs in the air, a sweet, agonizing reminder of your presence that refuses to dissipate.

he lowers his head into his hands, gripping his dark hair as a heavy silence settles over the room. his eyes catch the silver band on his finger, glinting stubbornly under the desk lamp. it feels heavier tonight, a cold weight pulling at his conscience. his marriage is a shell, a performance of obligation and polite distance, but it is a commitment nonetheless. yet, when you look at him, when you say his name with that quiet reverence, the walls he spent years building feel like nothing but paper.

he lets out a low, frustrated sigh and pulls the desk calendar toward him. your next session is a week away. seven days. he should cancel it. he should email you tomorrow, cite a busy schedule, and hand you over to a different advisor. it would be the right thing to do. it would be the safe thing to do.

slowly, his hand moves to his pen, hovering over next tuesday's date. but instead of crossing it out, his fingers tighten around the plastic. with a shaky breath, he draws a small, neat circle around the hour.