Rules we never kept

She was supposed to be just another teacher. Strict, sharp-eyed, the kind of woman who commanded silence with a single glance. I was supposed to be just another student-quiet, invisible, counting the days until graduation.

But then I noticed the way her voice softened when she said my name. The way her hands lingered on the chalk, the way her gaze found mine when the room was too loud.

It started with small things-stolen glances, words that meant more than they should, staying after class a little too long. A slow ache I couldn't name at first, a longing I knew I shouldn't feel.

This is not a story of rushing into love. This is a story of holding back, of burning quietly, of all the rules that cage us in and all the ways we try to break free.

Because sometimes the most dangerous lessons are the ones we never expected to learn.