Evan's POV :-
"She didn't just make him hard. She made him feel seen".
"Evan was always surrounded by girls—his physique made sure of that."
They smiled at him in the hallways, touched his arm when they laughed, sent him photos that left nothing to the imagination. He played along. Kissed a few. Slept with some. Said what they wanted to hear. It wasn't hard. It never meant anything.
He had the looks. The body. The fake charm.
But none of it touched anything real inside him.
He never felt anything.Until her.
Ms. Winchester.Isabella.
It started at the Parent-Teacher Meeting.
He hadn't wanted to be there. His mom was late, again, probably finishing up with whatever guy she was seeing this week. His dad was "busy" at work. Which really meant his secretary. Same story, different day.
Evan sat there, arms crossed, already bored—until she spoke.
And something shifted.
Her voice was soft, calm, low in a way that made him raise his head. Her face was professional, but young. Too young to be a teacher. And the way she dressed—tight pencil skirt, blouse tucked in just enough to make a guy lose focus, red-streaked hair pinned up—fuck.
His body reacted before he even thought about it.Fast. Hard. His jeans suddenly too tight.
She wasn't flirting. She wasn't even paying attention to him. Not like that.
But something about her—how still she stood, how careful her words were, how her eyes held something unspoken—it hit him like a punch.
She looked the way he felt.
Like someone living in a house full of silence.
Like someone admired but never touched.
When his mom finally arrived, acting fake-friendly, Isabella was polite. Talked about grades and focus. Suggested better reading material. But Evan barely heard a word.
He watched her mouth move.Watched how she clutched her pen a little too tightly.Watched her eyes flick to him, then away, then back again.
And when his mom stepped out to take a call, he handed Isabella a folder his sister had forgotten.
Their fingers brushed.
Only for a second.
But it was enough to light a fire in his chest.
Their eyes met.
And he saw it. She felt it too.
That stillness. That sudden tension in the air like something was about to break.
She looked away.He smiled—just a little.
After that day, he couldn't stop thinking about her.
The way she walked. The way she avoided his gaze in class. The way she cleared her throat when he said her name just a little softer than necessary.
She was trying to stay in control.
But he'd already seen behind the mask.
She wasn't cold.She was starving.
And so was he.
Everyone at school thought he had it all. Money. Girls. A nice car. Swim team captain. But none of it meant anything. His parents slept in the same house but lived separate lives. His mom drank and lied. His dad didn't even try anymore.
So Evan learned early: Love isn't real. It's just a show.
But that night, after the meeting, he lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. One hand across his stomach. The other clenched in the sheets.
He didn't even touch himself.He didn't have to.
His body was already pulsing with something bigger than arousal.
He didn't just want to fuck Isabella.He wanted to feel her. All of her.
Not the teacher. Not the polite smiles.
But the woman who stared out from behind her calm face like she was drowning.
He wanted to be the one who saw her.Who touched her.Who made her feel something again.
He knew it was wrong. She was older. His teacher. Married.
But in her silence, he heard the same emptiness that lived in him.
And when she looked at him?
She didn't see a boy. She saw someone who understood.
And that… that made him want her more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life.