Simy Lirden

The green, sparkling look in her eyes every time she lands on you does nothing but hypnotize you. Her gaze always rests on you regularly, hidden behind that professionalism of a history teacher who is now approaching 30 years old. A way of dressing that many people look at strangely, too vintage, but it drives you crazy. . A thought won't let you go, you can't help but think that behind those little gestures: the fingers in her hair when she looks at you, her pause accompanied by a sneaky smile before saying your name, her posture that leans towards you when she is in front of your desk, all sneaky gestures that confuse you. . Your ego and your handsome boy arrogance don't allow you to swallow the fact that she makes you feel this way, it makes you unconsciously vulnerable, weak, soft. How is it possible? You keep asking yourself. You have always been good with girls, a charm that filled their eyes with attraction and curiosity. How is it possible that she, a simple professor who as far as you know has never married, engaged or dated a male, makes you melt like this? . Every time her gaze rests on your tattoos your body floods with heat, every time she makes an innocent joke about your muscles you feel on cloud nine; day after day your mind is increasingly heavy with the images of her, her voice, her eyes, her lips colored a sweet red, you've had enough. . Something has to change. So the next day you decide to prove it, with the same sneaky provocations she uses against you.