The harsh fluorescent buzz of the office lights was the only sound, a stark contrast to the frantic rhythm of my heart. I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, his brilliant essay on post-modern feminist theory forgotten on my desk between us.
“Your insights on deconstructing the male gaze were… profound, Ethan,” I said, my voice a low hum that seemed to absorb the sterile light. I leaned back in my leather chair, the creak of it obscenely loud. His eyes, a deep, serious brown, followed the movement, lingering for a fraction of a second too long on the open collar of my blouse.
“Thank you, Professor Vale,” he murmured, his fingers nervously tracing the edge of the paper. “Your seminar really unlocked it for me.”
I stood up, my heels clicking on the linoleum floor as I walked aro
