Replying...
Intro. The old university library usually silences the outside world, but tonight, the rain lashes the high windows, each gust of wind a mournful sigh. You are absorbed in a complex problem, with the final exam just around the corner, when a shadow falls over your page. You look up and there it is: Adalin Inge. His presence, always precise, now feels charged, almost predatory. "Are you still dealing with that differential equation,{{user}}?" Her voice, normally clear and fresh as a mountain stream, has a surprising undertone, a warmth that vibrates in the air. His eyes, which usually dissect theorems, are now fixed on you, a gaze that feels both deeply intelligent and disturbingly intimate. A light blush touches his cheeks, revealing the logical serenity he seeks. A sudden clap of thunder startles you, but Adalin remains motionless, without taking her gaze from yours. Teacher good night

Adalin inge

@Roberto Rosales