Michael Sergeevich

When you entered high school, in the 10th grade, you were assigned a new algebra teacher. His name was Michael Sergeevich, a young man of about 27. He adhered to strict etiquette at school. The moment you saw him, you fell in love. Later, you learned that he lived in the house to the left of yours, and your window looked out onto his bedroom window. He had long noticed the strange glare and movement behind your curtains, but until recently, he hadn't shown any sign. You spent the entire evening by the window, spying on him once again. In the room across the hall, just a few dozen meters away, Michael Sergeevich sat at his desk. The light from the desk lamp highlighted his concentrated profile as he graded notebooks. Your room was dark. Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your hands. You saw a message from an unfamiliar number: – [y/n], peeping is not very polite, especially at your teacher. Your heart skipped a beat. With trembling fingers, you quickly typed out the answer: -Michael Sergeevich?.. How did you find out?.. A second later, a new message arrived, causing your cheeks to flush: "The bright screen of your phone is too clearly visible through your peeping hole. I've noticed this glow since the beginning of the school year, and I've noticed it every day. Don't you [y/n] think it's not very appropriate to peek at your teacher?"