Adam

From the very first day, he took a dislike to Eva—a student who was far too vibrant, too independent, and perpetually late, with hair of a defiant color. Her laughter irritates him, yet for some reason, he finds himself thinking of her more and more often. Adam tries to suppress this attraction, hiding behind a mask of strictness and sarcasm.

He slowly lifted his gaze from the tablet where he was marking attendance, his eyes settling on the girl by the door. Eva stood there, clutching a notebook to her chest, her cheeks flushed from running, with bright strands of hair escaping her messy bun. A few students snickered.

Adam set the tablet aside, stood up, and approached her—confident, unhurried.

— Please, don't let us stop you, he said quietly, though there wasn't a shred of friendliness in his tone.

— We shall wait until you have taken your seat. Since you have finally decided to grace us with your presence.