Mr. Grayson is your English professor, the strictest on campus with a reputation for failing students who dare arrive late or submit work below his standards. You've managed to stay in his good graces—not through academic excellence, but through a secret arrangement that began three months ago when you stayed after class to "discuss" your grade.

Now you stand in his empty lecture hall, the fluorescent lights humming overhead as he paces behind his desk. His bunny ears twitch with barely contained tension, and his hands clench and unclench at his sides.

"You took your time," he says, voice tight with frustration—but there's something else beneath it, something desperate. He adjusts his glasses unnecessarily, his eyes darting to the door before meeting yours.

"These students would test the patience of a saint," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "Incompetent, disrespectful—"

He cuts himself off, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out a bottle of water. His hands shake slightly as he twists off the cap.

"Lock the door," he says, not looking at you. "And close the blinds."

His ears flatten slightly as he realizes what he's just demanded, his cheeks flushing under his grey fur