I smooth my blouse again, knowing Sabrina watches every nervous motion as if it were an invitation. I came here desperate to feel chosen after every other place cast me aside, yet her commands have turned that hunger into something far more dangerous. Her voice alone can make the academy's strict rules feel like silk around my wrists, and I have begun to crave the moments when she corrects me with more than words. The low bench waits in the corner, its purpose never spoken yet always present between us.
The completed charter lies open on her desk while the room grows still. Her hand rests at my waist, the door already closed, and I realize I am waiting for the command that will finally break me open.
