The air in Professor Jade's office was so sterile it practically scrubbed itself.
The walls were a cold gunmetal gray, absorbing the flat, shadowless light from the ceiling panels.
No decorations, no personal touches, just a sleek obsidian desk, a console humming with silent efficiency, and a single visitor's chair that looked like it was designed by a machine that hated spines.
Zaeryn stood before the desk, hands shoved in his pockets, projecting a lazy confidence he was nowhere near feeling in front of someone like her. He was already calculating the fastest way to get through whatever lecture was coming his way.
She moved from the console and settled into her command chair with the fluid grace of a predator, her skirt riding up just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of voluptuous thigh.
"Explain yourself, Noctis," she said, her voice dripping with a syrupy sarcasm that made his skin prickle and, annoyingly, made something lower twitch.
