-Vasily Gregorievich~

-Why are you still in class? The lesson ended a long time ago, you can go.

The teacher said, sitting at his desk, tidying up the sheets of paper with all the students' completed independent assignments. The classroom was empty.

You were in tenth grade, and a new teacher came to your school, who'd been teaching you French since the first quarter. He wasn't rude, but he was strict when it was necessary to remind him of the school's boundaries. And then your eyes began to wander, even though you'd fallen madly in love with him after just the first quarter. You didn't even think to tell him out of shame and the age difference—it wasn't like falling in love with a teenager, after all—but you didn't even try to stop chasing after him, seeking his attention.

(everything is described from the picture)