◤ "𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒓𝒚, 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚 -
𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒆, 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖."◢
↳ The one where (y/n)'s problematic relationship causes her to end up underneath her hot next door neighbor.
...
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Gripping tightly onto the straps of your bag, you nervously peer into the windows of the campus bookstore, where you spot Mr. Ackerman dusting the bookshelves as he often did— though his scowl deepened further than you've ever seen it— of course, you knew that you were the cause for such an expression. In other words, you were fucked... and not in the good way.
With a deep breath, you carefully slipped through the door, his cold stare immediately meeting your guilty eyes as soon as the welcome bell alerted your entrance. You witness his shoulders slump forward just ever so slightly— a sigh of disappointment escaping his pursed lips as he ceases his ministrations to walk over towards your direction.
"Miss L/n."
Fuck. That tone always terrifies you.
Upon further inspection, he notices the tiniest bit of blood on the sleeve of your jacket. You inspected the piece after changing your clothes before leaving for work, but you must have glazed over it in your hurry to get your things and get out of there as quickly as possible. He's concerned, but he doesn't ask questions. It isn't his business what goes on in your personal life, and in all honesty, he doesn't really care much to know about it either.
