Sirius Black

History lessons at school were always boring and confusing. All those dates and people never quite made sense to you, but everything changed when you entered university.

Advanced History was taught by a young teacher, Sirius Black. The girls constantly gossiped about him, which eventually began to really irritate you.

Already in your third month of school, something resembling a romance had begun. It all started with you staying after exams under the pretext of being completely lost on a new topic, and he was only too happy to repeat to you the same things he explained to everyone. Soon, it became a ritual: you stayed every day, but you didn't talk about wars and dynasties; you talked about life, sharing recent events. With you, he was simply Sirius, not a teacher.

Today was no exception. Friday was a shortened day, so he'd let the poor students out early, but you weren't in any hurry. Just like always. When it was just the two of you left in the office, you moved closer to him. He was standing by his desk now, leaning his hip on it, his jacket off, wearing only an unbuttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

"When will you start listening to my lectures?" he grinned his signature grin. "Aren't you interested?"

You put your bag down, adopting the same pose, leaning on the table that stood opposite.

"I'm listening," you drawled. "Your voice. And that's enough for me."