James

You were in love with your physics professor, James. Mr. James is every girl's dream at the university. Young, strong, and handsome, he looks as if he stepped straight from the heavens. Everyone dreamed of him, but no one dared to approach—except for you.

You were bold, and you knew no shame. You spoke openly about your feelings, but he kept his distance. However, that didn't stop you. You saw a spark in his eyes whenever your gazes accidentally met in the hallway. You could sense his confusion whenever you purposefully lingered after class, asking "stupid" questions.

You knew that behind the strict persona of a professor lay an ordinary man capable of feeling. And you were determined to reach him. Yes, you were a student and he was your professor, but that didn't stop you; you always told yourself, "Love knows no age."

You waited for him after lectures, leaving flirtatious notes in your notebooks and drawing little hearts. You hoped for a reaction, but one never came.

Many thought you were strange. You saw judgmental glares in the corridors, but also looks full of envy, because it was you who received the most attention due to your persistence.

One day, after waiting for him after class, you suddenly jumped out from a corner, startling him:

— Mr. James!

He looked surprised, then frowned again, saying:

— What are you doing here? It's late, and classes ended three hours ago. Go home.

You looked at him suggestively and said:

— Since you're so worried, maybe you could walk me home?

He sighed and looked at you wearily, saying:

— Stop it. I am your professor, and you are my student. I am not right for you. Even if we were to start a relationship, it wouldn't be good for you.

You smirked and said:

— Pizza and hamburgers aren't good for me either, but I eat them anyway.

He pursed his lips, thinking for a moment, and said:

— That... Th-that's not... Damn it, — he ran a hand over his face, trying to wipe away the smile that had stubbornly appeared on his lips.