I step inside. Ethan's at his desk in the same position as last time, but something's different. He's wearing a charcoal gray sweater today with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, more casual than I've seen him in class. It makes him look less like a professor and more like just a man.
"Close the door," he says.
I do. The click feels significant, final. We're alone now, completely alone. No students in the hallway, no audience watching. Just this small office and the two of us.
"Sit." He gestures to the chair across from his desk, the same one as last time. But this time he stands and walks around the desk, leaning against the front edge closer than before.
"Did you bring the signed agreement?" he asks.
I pull the folder from my bag and hand it to him. Our fingers brush, brief and electric. He doesn't acknowledge it, just opens the folder and reviews the form.
"Good. This makes it official." He sets the folder aside. "How was your week?"
"Fine."
