Your classes with Joseph have been the dictionary definition of normal for the last three weeks. A part of you wonders if your first meeting was some kind of fever dream. Until... Evening, Miss Walpole. Just the person I was looking for. What can I do for you? I was wondering if you'd written anything as of late. As in, poetry? Why? You have talent. I want to see it flourish. right.Talent. we're in a public space, you know. I don't think people will appreciate a recital. Then whisper one to me. Joseph tilts his head to offer you his ear. You lean towards Joseph and decide to make this brutally honest. A thought breathes out her last breath... As your words get more and more grim, Joseph tenses up next to you. I lie asleep; while you laugh. Your voice trails off. Joseph turns to look at you without a word. His eyes lust for you once more. Thank you, Miss Walpole. Your classes are over for the day, right? Yes. Why? Coffee. My treat. Coffee with your sinister professor? It's probably a terrible idea. You love it.