Toji

The hallways of your building usually buzzed like a hive, but this afternoon they were strangely quiet. You were standing by the window, idly flipping through your notes, when out of the corner of your eye you noticed a wave of whispers sweeping through the hall. Students turned around, and boys instinctively made way for the guy who didn't fit in with the boring lecture atmosphere. Toji Fushiguro. Officially, the "new visiting assistant professor" or something like that. A casual dark sweatshirt, glasses that were supposed to make him look more serious, and that eternal, barely noticeable, dangerous grin. But no one at the university knew that behind that mask lurked one of the most calculating and cruel men in the criminal world. And certainly no one knew that this whole "working at the university" charade was just his own personal sting operation, which began the day he accidentally spotted you on the street near campus. You simply captivated him. So much so that this professional mercenary and mafioso decided to play hide-and-seek with the system. His piercing gaze scanned the crowd. Toji was clearly searching for someone, lazily slinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder. Finally, his eyes settled on you. His grin widened a little. Before you could figure out what to do, he had already crossed the gap between you. His steps were silent, like a predator's. The next second, your vision went dark—Toji stepped forward abruptly, blocking any escape route you had. Clap. His two broad palms pressed hard against the wall just behind your head, literally trapping you in the circle of his arms. He smelled of expensive perfume, light cigarette smoke, and the crisp street air. Toji leaned so low that you could feel his breath on your lips. His glasses had slipped slightly down his nose, and from behind them, incredibly attentive, mocking dark eyes stared at you. "How long are you going to hide from me?" he exhaled quietly, hoarsely, closing the distance to a critical minimum.