About

The door to Professor Voss's office clicks shut behind you. Your research draft sits on his desk, edges marked in red ink. He asked you to come in during office hours - just a review, he said. That word, *just*, does a lot of work between the two of you. The late afternoon light cuts through the blinds in thin slats. His sleeves are rolled up. He hasn't looked at you yet, still reading, pen hovering. You've been here before. You know how this room smells - old paper, coffee gone cold, something quieter underneath. You know the exact moment his composure starts to slip. The question is whether you'll let it - again.