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The last place in the world she wanted to be was Townsend's office, yet, here she was.

Barely able to focus on her other classes, as soon as two p.m. came around, she made a beeline for the science hall, woefully trudging up to the top floor and waiting patiently for Townsend to show. Oddly enough, the professor wasn't in the ample space, but the door was wide open. As if the older woman had left in a rush.

Mar settled herself into the chair in front of her desk, expecting the woman to enter the office at any moment, or at least for someone to pass by the door. But as five minutes stretched into ten, and ten into fifteen, then twenty, the creeping dread filling her body forced her wandering thoughts to fixate on the desk in front of her.

It was a mess of papers and files, books sprawled about the surface messily with her laptop left open on top of it. The longer she sat, the more she looked, the more her mind began to wander.

What if she just... took a quick look around? It couldn't hurt. She doubted she'd stumble upon the answers to the final just lying out in the open like this. But perhaps she'd find some hints in the study guide?

She grimaced, thinking about her situation. It was all a mess, a real mess. But she couldn't help it; desperation drove her actions now. Without overthinking, she rose from her seat and circled the desk. Sneaking glances at the door, she gingerly began shuffling through papers, hastily skimming them before carefully placing them back where they belonged.

She should stop this. What about academic integrity? What about earning grades the right way? Mar hesitated, almost feeling guilty, until a sudden realization hit her.

Who was she to think about academic integrity when she had a 53?

She should stop, and she knew it. Quit while she was ahead. She was lucky enough that no one had rounded the corner yet and saw her guiltily standing over the desk. Then, her eyes spotted it-the answer sheet for the final exam.

God, she could have started crying then.

She whipped out her phone, clicking pics of each page, when she heard the swift steps echoing on the hard tiles. Panicking, she hurried to snap the last shots, scrambling to put everything back on the desk. But it wasn't fast enough. The footsteps approached, her heart pounding, and she ducked beneath the stupid desk.

Shit, shit, shit! Of course, Townsend would show up just as she stumbled upon the exam. It was suspiciously perfect timing, almost too good to be true. Now, what the hell was she going to do? How could she possibly get out of this mess? Her eyes darted nervously around the room, hands gripping the swivel chair in front of her like a lifeline.

Trapped, cornered, with no escape route in sight. If Professor Townsend decided to take a seat and start grading papers, there was no way she wouldn't spot her.

Why the hell didnt she just sit back in her seat?

As the footsteps drew closer to the office, a sinking feeling settled in her stomach. She was done for, officially dead. She was going to get caught. What excuse could she possibly give?

Oh, I dropped something? It rolled under your desk, so I was searching for it? Wait a second... That might just work! In fact, it was brilliant.

But what could she drop? Her phone, her pen, her-

Her necklace.

Mar's hand shot up, seizing the golden chain dangling loosely around her neck, the attached ring catching the dim light. Without a moment's hesitation, she tore it from her neck just as the door clicked shut and locked. Her heart raced as she readied herself to spring up, give her brilliant excuse, and bolt from the room. But then, a low, unfamiliar voice froze her in place.

"Catherine, be serious. You're not tired of this yet?" A low, sarcastic chuckle accompanied the husky voice. "What? Your husband fucking you again?"

Mar blinked, her gaze darting to the shadows with incredulity. What on earth did he just say? Was she hearing things? And that voice, could it be... no, it couldn't be him. Surely not.

An angry huff followed. "That's none of your business."

"Oh, so he is," he drawled, stretching out the words with mock amusement. "Good for you, huh?"

"Very," Townsend asserted firmly. Mar flinched as something heavy and hollow hit the top of the desk, her grip on the chair tightening in surprise. "Now leave. I'm done speaking with you."

Please, Mar begged silently. Please, both of you leave. The more she heard, the more she felt like she shouldn't.

"Right," his voice murmured, smooth yet tinged with disbelief. "I'll leave. That's what you want, right? I'll disappear, and you won't hear from me again. But let me ask you something, Cate." There was a soft shuffle, accompanied by her low, unsteady breath. "You sure you want me to?"

Mar expected the woman to tell him to leave again. She was so adamant about him leaving, so why would this time be any different? Yet, instead of an immediate response, a hush lingered, punctuated only by another subtle shuffle, followed by the sound of yet another unsteady breath.

"I thought so." His tone dripped with arrogance, a confidence that bordered on indifference, unphased by her reaction. "You want me, even when he's fucking you. And yet, you want me to leave."

Mar blanked, hands getting clammy. This couldn't be—they couldn't be talking about an affair, right? Her hearing was off. It had to be.

"I-I do." She cleared her throat. "You, you're wrong. I do. Now."

"How convincing." he mocked. "So convincing. He hits that spot you like, then? Until you beg him to stop? Until you're a whimpering fucking mess?"

A pause, a laugh.

"Huh. Guess he doesn't."

She was going to be sick.

Townsend's sharp voice stopped his careless tongue. "Stop it, Zen. I'm serious. I told you we're done. I can't keep doing this to my husband. I love him. And I want to make things work. I'm going to make things work...What we had? It's done. We're done."

"We're done when I say we're done."

She heard shuffling, a sharp gasp, and another dark chuckle. In the darkness under the desk, her imagination could only fill in the blanks for her. Good god, this was worse than being caught. How was she going to leave and pretend she never heard this?

"Zen-"

More shuffling, followed by a low moan. Professor Townsend moaned. Oh god, ew.

"Love? You're so fucking funny. Were you thinking of love when you spread your legs for me? When you begged me to fuck you 'cause your husband wouldn't touch you, let alone look your way?"

Mar almost gasped, but it was Professor Townsend who did. A slow, breathy gasp filled the air, echoing in the tense silence. Ew, ew, ew. "Cate, baby. I can't hear you. Use your words."

"T-that was a mistake. I should never have crossed that line with you."

"A mistake?" His mocking tone scorched the air. "One you repeated over and over again. Hell of a mistake."

How was Townsend still here, taking his words like this? Everything about his tone, his words, made her want to flee and he wasn't even talking to her. But Zen didn't stop there. No, something told Mar he wasn't the type.

"Were you thinking of love when you fucked me in his office? When you bounced on my cock until you came all over his desk? When you got on your knees and sucked my cock, gagged on it just how I like? Hm?"

Her stomach churned, bile rising in the back of her throat as disgust contorted her features. "Ew, ew, ew," she mouthed under her breath, unable to mask her revulsion at the scene unfolding before her.

"Were you thinking of love when you begged me for more?"

Townsend cleared her throat, stuttering out a rebuttal, "I-I was, I never meant to-"

"Oh, you were, sevgili? How funny," He taunted, the words laced with a dangerous edge. "I didn't know you were into that, I had no fucking clue. Is he? Does your husband get off knowing the wife he loves gets fucked by another man every other night? You should have told me, baby. I don't mind, I promise. Next time, he can watch."

She stared into the darkness, her disbelief palpable, mouth hanging open in astonishment. Shameless. He was utterly shameless, showing no care or remorse for his words. Did he not hear the things coming out of his mouth? Was his hearing not working, too?

Seconds pass mercilessly as another jagged breath fills the room. "I should have never gotten involved with you like this. You're crazy. You're crazy, and so am I. "

"I am. But when have I claimed to be anything but?"

"You're insane-"

"Mhm. But we both know I'm right."

They were both crazy. "Tell me you don't miss me. Tell me, and I'll leave."

"No. No...we can't do this anymore..." Townsend's voice quivered with pain, her tone pleading, as if she were bargaining with him.

Privy to their secrets, she couldn't help but notice how it seemed like Townsend didn't want him to stop. Not really. His mocking chuckle echoed in her mind, and Mar knew she was in trouble. As if he knew the professor would give in.

And her poor, poor ears would be witness to it all.

"Then stop me."

The words scorched her poor, innocent ears, as did the sounds that followed. Moans, jostling, the sound of documents being pushed from the desk and tossed onto the floor. Jesus, her jaw unhinged in shock.

Unable to believe her ears, the nosy girl peeked her head over in shock only to duck back quickly. Even seeing the scene before her for a second was too much. Rough kissing, bodies entangled passionately, shoving her against the desk as he pulled at her clothes...

She gagged at the moans that quickly filled the space, the jostling on top of the desk.

Her professor, a married woman, was kissing a man in her classroom. And not just any man. Mar would have to be blind not to recognize the infamous tattooed upperclassman making a mess of her professor on the desk. She knew she recognized the voice the moment she heard it, she just couldn't believe it.

He was the subject of so many whispers and rumors that he was something of a campus celebrity, much like his celebrity older brother.

Zen Isik.

Oh god. Oh god, she was going to be sick. She was going to throw up then and there and on her favorite sweatsuit too.

What the hell are they doing together? She's a professor, and he's a student! She can't do that. They can't-

The moans grew louder, pure panic filling her body and then disgust. Are they...are they going to do it? Here? At school? With her in the room? She had the worst luck in the entire world. It was official.

Of course, it could only get worse.

Mar's bright ringtone reverberated throughout the space, sharply cutting into the tension. She desperately reached her hand into her canvas tote, a string of curses passing in a single breath as she shuffled through the bag for it, but it was enough. She was caught, and so were they. Red-handed.

"Wait!" The professor shrieked, voice alert, "Wait, who's here?"

Of course she didn't answer, shoving the bag back onto her arm. She wasn't that stupid. But what should she do? What the hell should she do?

Maybe they would leave, knowing they were caught? Perhaps they would never even know it was her.

"Come out now while I'm patient." Zen's deep, annoyed voice languidly filled the room. "Or I'll get you myself. And trust me, you won't like that."

She answered the thinly veiled threat with a silent shake of her head. She would absolutely fucking not.

As if he heard the words, his heavy footsteps began their approach, even though the professor begged him not to. Would he drag her out by her neck? Oh god, her feet? Her hair?

She took a deep breath, gripping the necklace in her hand, and rose with bright cheeks. Zen hadn't made it far before he stopped, a vision of death in all black. She met his gaze for only a second, intimidated by his close proximity. Her eyes flickered over to the professor, shirtless and breathless, eyes wide with horror.

"Mar?" Professor Townsend paled, rushing to cover herself with her shirt. Then, she stood, pushing her skirt down. "What are you doing here?"

And what did you see ? Was the questioned that went unasked.

But they all knew what she'd seen, what she'd heard.

An uneasy laugh passed from her lips. "Office hours?"

"Office hours?" The woman uttered, brows furrowed as though she completely forgot her words from earlier that day. "B-but-"

"T-to talk about the exam. But you weren't here, and I dropped my ring under the desk, and you came in, and, uh..."

All of...that...happened...

A thick, awkward silence descended. She took a careful step back, pausing only when Zen's dark eyes met hers. Unlike the professor, whose entire body screamed guilt, he was unreadable.

Zen leaned casually against the desk, his muscular, tattooed arms folded over his chest. His gaze swept over her, cold and apathetic, assessing her as if she were insignificant. It dawned on her that he didn't care. He knew she heard everything, witnessed everything, and he still didn't care.

"Is that so?" he echoed skeptically, his tone dripping with disbelief, clearly unconvinced by her words.

He knew.

Oh god, he knew.

"Uh-huh. But, uh, don't mind me. I was leaving," she squeaked, squeezing past Zen, and circling the desk as quickly as she could. "Keep, uh," She unlocked the door with shaky hands. "keep doing what you're doing. I was never here."

Unexpectedly, Zen's deep laughter resonated through the air. Whatever spell Professor Townsend was under, that laugh seemed to break her out of it. "Wait," she called out, "wait, Mar, it's not what you think-"

It was too late. She turned and fled, sprinting out of the room, the professor's panicked voice echoing after.