The art academy was almost deserted, the hallways echoing with the soft tap of Isla's shoes against polished floors. Her sketchbook lay open on a drafting table, pencils scattered across the surface. Her hands trembled slightly—not from fatigue, but from the anticipation curling in her chest.
A shadow fell across her workspace.
"Still here?"
Her heart skipped. She looked up, cheeks flushing, and saw Professor Adrian leaning casually against the doorway. His tailored jacket clung perfectly to broad shoulders, and his dark eyes held that magnetic intensity she both feared and craved.
"Yes… I wanted to finish," she murmured, trying to focus on her sketch but unable to ignore the pull she felt toward him.
He stepped closer, the air around him warming, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. "You always do this," he said, voice low, teasing, dangerous. "Stay late. Isolate yourself. It makes you… vulnerable."
Vulnerable. The word hit her like a pulse. She realized she wasn't just physically tense; every nerve in her body was alert, craving the proximity of him she knew she shouldn't want.
"I like the quiet," she whispered, trying to ground herself. "I… I like being alone with my work."
"Quiet, yes… private… and tempting," he murmured, moving closer still. His hand brushed against hers as he adjusted a pencil near her sketchbook. The contact, accidental or deliberate, sent an electric shiver straight to her core.
"I… shouldn't," she whispered.
"And yet…" His lips curved slightly, low and knowing. "Here we are."
Their eyes locked, and the tension between them became almost unbearable. Every movement he made—slow, deliberate—pulled her in deeper. His hand lingered over hers, tracing the back of her hand with feather-light touches, and her pulse thundered in her ears.
"You know we can't," he whispered, lips dangerously close. "It's forbidden… dangerous."
"I know," she admitted, voice trembling, a mix of fear and longing. "But I want it anyway."
Then his lips met hers. The kiss was slow, teasing, testing boundaries. Tongues brushed lightly, exploring, and she moaned softly into him, hands flying to his chest to feel the heat of his body. His hands roamed her back, pulling her impossibly close. The forbidden thrill made every nerve feel alive, every touch amplified.
When they broke apart, breathless, the room seemed charged with electricity. Neither spoke, both aware that this was the first spark of a fire that neither of them could extinguish.