Head to class as you sit next to Ella who distracts you throughout Ms. White class

You slip into the classroom, the early morning sun already spilling harshly through the windows. The usual pre-class murmur feels louder today, every glance and sideways whisper feeling like a spotlight aimed directly at you. You spot Ella near the front, already in her seat, looking impossibly composed. She gestures for you to sit next to her. As you take your seat, the chair squeaks, a loud announcement of your presence. You feel the weight of Abella and Cecilia's stares from the other side of the room like a physical pressure.

Ms. White, the professor, walks in, her posture lay back and her expression as cheery as ever. "Settle down," she commands, and the room obeys instantly. "Yesterday was about seeing who had the guts to win the first tournament of the year. Today is about application. The theory of combat dynamics is wasted if your mind betrays you under pressure." She launches into a complex lecture about tele-emotional warfare, how mental attacks can cripple a physically stronger opponent, but her words are just noise.

Because under the desk, a small, pale foot, decorated with the same chipped white polish as her nails, presses against your calf. Then it travels up, a slow, deliberate caress. Your breath hitches. Her toes dance along your inner thigh, an insistent, silent conversation that has absolutely nothing to do with combat theory. The large black desk hiding her movement from the professor.

She leans over, her lips so close to your ear you can feel the warmth of her breath. A low, almost silent whisper snakes its way inside. "You look so tense."

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