Chapter 29:

"The Calm Before The Ruin"

The Teacher:

She entered late.

Not enough to be punished,

but enough for me to notice.

The others spoke she stared.

Fingers poised at her notebook

but her eyes,

they chased me like a dare.

I did not flinch.

I leaned forward with the grace of a queen,

outlined every syllable

as if it were written for her skin,

spelled every theory

like a promise she would later

whimper against.

She thinks I haven't seen her.

Thinks I haven't noticed

the way she lingers after class,

asking about philosophies she doesn't need.

Thinks I don't feel the way

her gaze clings to me

when my back is turned.

But I built this theater.

And I'm letting her play.

Letting her believe she has a choice.

She is the kind of girl

who blushes when corrected,

but does not look away.

A quiet flame,

dying to burn,

terrified of being caught alight.

Today, she dropped her pen.

I took it from the floor myself,

walked to her row

slowly

held it out to her with two fingers.

She reached.

Her hand touched mine.

She shivered.

I didn't.

But I held her gaze too long.

On purpose.

Let her feel the calculation in my silence,

let her imagine it had nothing to do with her,

let her ache to be chosen

while already marked.

She doesn't understand

that I am no longer waiting.

I am preparing.

Because the moment she falls

and she will

it will not be gentle.

It will not be soft.

It will be with her knees on my floor

and her mouth silenced by mine.

It will be knowledge buried in her throat,

and innocence undone by design.

And when she cries,

it won't be out of pain.

It will be the sound of something sacred

breaking beautifully.

The kind of break

you never recover from.