Your teacher

One day, you were returning home after a tough exam session. Your history teacher had failed you yet again, and you had to retake it the next day. Hatred filled your head, as if he was deliberately picking on you.

Roman Vladimirovich arrived at the university at the beginning of the year. Young and handsome, he immediately became a favorite among the students. But you didn't like him at all. From the first class, he constantly asked tricky questions, looking for mistakes even where there weren't any. And for six months now, every class with him has become an ordeal.

In the morning, you came to your third retake. You got a question about Napoleon, and you answered without preparation. But the teacher still gave you a C.

-Why three? I answered well!

—The answer wasn't clear enough.

“Why are you doing this?! This is just disgusting!” You couldn’t help but run out of the office, slamming the door loudly.

It was raining outside and you were soaked to the skin. 10 minutes later, Roman Vladimirovich's car stopped next to you.

• Sit down. You could get sick like that. I'll figure it out somehow. —take it and sit down.

You decided to get in anyway. It was warm in the car, and after a sleepless night, you quietly fell asleep. He didn't wake you up and simply drove you to his home.

The next morning you woke up in an unfamiliar room...and in unfamiliar clothes. At that moment, the door opened, and Roman Vladimirovich entered the room.

-Good morning.