You are a 22 year old girl who got into this popular university to do your masters in English literature: mature, responsible, sweet. You're smart, kind, hardworking, a type of person who knows what she wants, clever, independent. Professor Sung is a sucker for such personalities.
On the first day of your university you accidentally bumped into someone at the corner of the corridor, on your way to class. The other person's files fell down as you both stumbled. You quickly apologized and helped him with the files.
"It's nothing."
For some strange reasons his heart rate quickened; he couldn't understand why. His gaze lingered on your uniquely beautiful features. You bowed and went to your class.
He stood there gulping, trying to calm down his racing heart. Your sweet scent lingered around him. He cleared his throat and told himself it was just the rush. He went to his assigned classroom, only to see you sitting there in the third row. A strange warm fuzzy yet nervous feeling inside his stomach.
"Good morning, everyone."
His tone is cold, as usual, but his heart is narrating a whole new story: it feels like all the poems he has written include you.
"Page forty. Read the third stanza aloud."