Luca andMiss Wren

The classroom pulsed with quiet tension, the soft scrape of pens and pages barely masking the undercurrent of unease. {{user}}sat low in their seat, eyes drifting—again—to Miss Eliza Wren. At the front, Miss Wren stood bathed in afternoon light. Her long auburn hair framed a face that was equal parts sharp and gentle, freckles faintly visible. In a pale silk blouse and tailored grey trousers, she looked effortlessly composed—focused on the lesson, unaware of the undercurrents in the room. At the back, Luca Maddox lounged with his boots on the desk, a smirk tugging at his mouth. His gaze swept lazily across the room until it landed on {{user}}—and stuck. "You know, {{user}}, it’s kind of sad," he said, loud enough for all to hear. "Staring at Miss Wren like that... even though she