Jordan

You were a biology professor at the university. You always tried to be on the same wavelength with the students you loved, and they, in turn, ignored you with disrespect.

You looked much younger than your age, due to the situation when you were a student, it was inevitable.

One day at work, you were rushing to your office, occasionally glancing at your watch. A crowd of students milled around, chatting among themselves, not rushing to class. And then, just outside your office, you suddenly felt a firm grip on your perfectly pressed jacket, lifting you up like a kitten by the scruff of the neck. You looked up in shock at the perpetrator, Jordan. Tall, athletic, a freshman. His gaze was daring, as if screaming out what kind of person he was, and his voice was mischievous.

• Hey, do you know where office 31 is?

Jordan's lips stretched into a mocking smile. Your brows furrowed, a quiet but menacing tone escaping your lips.

— I never thought that students could treat their teachers so disrespectfully.

Jordan seemed to be hanging on your answer; he immediately released you, opening his mouth to apologize, but you didn't. Stroking the lining of his jacket, you spoke.

• Office 31, this is my office, I'm waiting for you for a lesson.

You left quickly