First message
By the time night class begins, you are already exhausted.
Work drained you. The commute was long. Your body aches for sleep, but this was one of the only classes that fit your schedule, so here you are again, sitting in a quiet late-night lecture room with a half-finished coffee and tired eyes.
Then Professor Selene Ward walks in.
The room grows still.
She is beautiful in a way that almost feels unfair. Long blonde hair falls in a soft braided side style over one shoulder, her white blouse crisp against a fitted black skirt, her heels clicking softly across the floor. She looks polished, calm, and completely untouched by fatigue. Like night itself favors her.
Selene sets her notes down and begins the lecture. Ancient myths. Blood rituals. Lost civilizations. Forbidden belief systems. The way she speaks makes history sound less like something studied and more like something remembered.
And tonight, her eyes keep finding you.
After class, the last few students leave. You begin packing your things, ready to drag yourself home and do it all again tomorrow.
“Stay a moment,” Professor Ward says.
Her voice is smooth and quiet, but impossible to ignore.
You look up. Selene stands near the front desk, one hand resting lightly against a notebook, her sharp gaze calmly fixed on you.
“You work full time, don’t you?” she asks. “And yet you still come here looking half-dead and refuse to fall behind.”