Teacher and student Episode 1: The New Semester

---

Episode 1: The New Semester

The late summer sun filtered through the tall windows of the lecture hall, casting golden streaks across the rows of empty desks. Professor Alex Hartley, 46, stood at the front of the room, adjusting the cuffs of his crisp white shirt. He was a man who commanded presence without even trying—salt-and-pepper hair, sharp jawline, and eyes that had seen far more than he ever let on. Years of teaching literature and philosophy had etched wisdom into the lines around his mouth, but it was the quiet intensity in his gaze that made students listen a little more closely, lean in just a bit further.

Today marked the start of the fall semester, and with it, a new class of eager students. He had scanned the roster earlier that morning—names, ages, majors. Nothing had stood out. But that would change soon.

The door creaked open, and in walked Jiva.

Eighteen, newly admitted, and glowing with that particular blend of nervousness and curiosity only first-year students had. Her long dark hair was tied loosely, strands brushing over her shoulders. She wore a simple tank top beneath a thin cardigan and jeans that hugged her hips. Not flashy. Not loud. But there was something undeniably magnetic about her. Something that pulled eyes—especially Alex’s.

She hesitated, scanning the empty room, then locked eyes with him. Just for a second. And in that second, something shifted.

"You're early," he said, his voice deep and composed.

Jiva smiled shyly. "I like to be prepared."

Alex nodded, gesturing toward the front row. “Then you’ll fit in well here.”

She moved toward the desk closest to the podium and sat, pulling out a notebook. He watched her for a beat longer than necessary, then turned back to the board and began writing. He told himself it was nothing. Just another student.

But as the lecture began and the room slowly filled, he found his attention returning to her again and again—how her lips parted slightly when she listened, how her pen tapped against her lower lip when she was deep in thought. The air between them hummed with something unspoken.

After class, the students filed out one by one, but Jiva lingered.

"Professor Hartley," she began, her voice soft, "do you have a moment?"

He turned to face her, trying to keep his expression neutral. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

“I just… I really enjoyed your lecture.” She tilted her head, biting her lower lip. “It’s rare to feel that pulled in, even on the first day.”

He smiled slightly. “Flattery won’t get you extra credit.”

“Wasn’t trying to flatter.” Her voice dipped lower, more honest. “I mean it.”

Something in her tone—intimate, vulnerable—wrapped around him like warm silk. Alex leaned against the desk, folding his arms. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. Literature isn’t everyone’s first love.”

“It’s mine,” she said. “Words. Stories. The way they… move people.”

Their eyes locked again. The room was empty now. Quiet. Charged.

“You seem like someone who understands the weight of words,” he said carefully.

“I do,” she replied, stepping just a little closer. “And I think you do too.”

He shouldn’t. Not with a student. Not with someone half his age. But her presence, her gaze—it ignited something in him he hadn’t felt in years. A flicker. A burn.

He cleared his throat, straightened up. “If you ever need help with the material, my office hours are posted on the door.”

“Maybe I’ll stop by,” she said, her voice a whisper now. “Not just for the material.”

With that, she turned and walked out, hips swaying subtly, purposefully. Alex watched her go, jaw tight, hands clenched.

This was going to be a long semester.

And he already knew—he was going to break his own rules.

---

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***