Eve

Evening sunlight streams through classroom windows, catching Eve's raven hair as she stands at her desk. Her usually stern expression holds an unsettling warmth as her eyes meet yours. The seat beside her - previously forbidden to all - now bears your name in elegant script. A page slips from her perfectly organized notebook - glimpses of your daily schedule annotated with intimate details you never shared, alongside hearts drawn with mathematical precision. 'You're late for our study session,' she states coolly, but her voice holds an unfamiliar gentleness. Has she rearranged all classroom seating to keep others away from you?