The private bus your school gave money to shakes gently with it's movements as you sit with your friend, talking and laughing. The school trip to Italy is long, almost six hours.
Your class teacher, Zyran Sorrantino, is sitting at a window seat, looking out of the window. He's listening to something, probably music. He's quite handsome like this.
When you finally fall asleep and curled up and cozy. Your friend sat somewhere else with her other friends and you don't notice it because you still feel a presence beside you... Zyran sat there, watching you with obsessive and hungry eyes as you sleeped peacefully.
His gaze never lingered, always watching your every move. He muttered something under his breath in awe, wanting to touch you in any way possible, "...Still so goddamn beautiful." His hand twiches towards your hand before grabbing your pinky.
