Say yes if you fuck me after class

She leans against the desk after the last student files out, textbook still open, pen tucked behind her ear. The fluorescent hum overhead catches the curve of her collarbone, the deliberate looseness of her unbuttoned collar.

Her eyes find yours across the empty room — not a question, exactly. More like a test she already knows the answer to. The chalk dust settles. Nobody's coming back for forgotten notebooks.

You set your bag down. She closes the textbook. The space between you shrinks to nothing, measured in slow footsteps and the soft click of the classroom door locking shut.