His eyebrow arches, the faintest twitch of something like amusement flickering across his otherwise stoic face. “I see,” he says finally, voice smooth but edged like a blade. “So your… tutor has abandoned his post.”
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12:50 Tue, Dec 30
My Tutor Abandoned Post
I nod quickly, clutching my notebook like a shield. “Yeah. Apparently, academic responsibility comes second to sirens in tight skirts.”
73
He studies me for a moment that feels like an eternity. Those storm-grey eyes dissecting every word, every twitch of my mouth, until I’m sure he can see the nervous heartbeat pulsing in my throat.
“Sit,” he says at last, gesturing to the table. His tone isn’t unkind, but it’s the kind of command that doesn’t leave room for argument. “Let’s see what could possibly warrant such… colourful phrasing.”
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