Detention!

Fudge Placebo

21 hours ago

2 min read

Detention. Again. The last of the evening sunlight spilled through the tall classroom windows, casting long amber shadows across the worn wooden desks. Dust drifted lazily through the golden beams, while the faint scent of chalk, old books and polished wood lingered in the still air. Somewhere beyond the classroom, footsteps echoed along the deserted corridor before fading into nothingness. The heavy door had closed behind her with a decisive click, leaving her alone with the Professor and the consequences of her rather spectacular inability to behave. He sat behind his imposing desk, sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms, his glasses resting low on his nose as he examined a stack of papers. Without looking up, he gestured towards the chair opposite. No greeting. No lecture. Just one unmistakable instruction. She sat, smoothing her skirt and arranging her expression into something resembling innocence. Unfortunately, the Professor had long since stopped believing in her innocence.

Outside, the wind stirred the autumn leaves against the windows, their delicate scratching the only interruption to the stillness. The blackboard behind her remained covered in the lines she'd been instructed to write, a rather public testament to her inability to keep her cheeky remarks to herself. She shifted in her chair, the wooden legs scraping sharply against the floor. His pen stopped. Her heart gave an involuntary little jump. Without lifting his head, he simply extended one finger towards the chair, indicating that she should remain still. She obeyed. Another five minutes passed. Perhaps ten. Time had become impossible to measure. Every turn of a page, every quiet breath, every deliberate movement of his hand seemed calculated to remind her that he was entirely comfortable with the silence she found so unbearable.