Why had Marcus rushed through his shower with such haste? A mere moment ago, he had been


    enclosed within the bathroom’s embrace, and now he emerged, leaving behind its sanctuary. The


    sudden appearance caught her off guard.


    Gazing upon the chiseled contours of Marcus’ visage against the canvas of his robust chest, Millie


    found herself enveloped in a shroud of shyness. With unblemished sincerity, she voiced her thoughts.


    “Nay, only a solitary question did I chance upon.”


    Her hand ascended to Lend support against the imposing bastion of Marcus’ chest, encountering the


    terrain of his robust and dewy sinews.


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    Her gaze lifted, encountering his intent stare. Millie’s reticence deepened, mingling with a tincture of


    culpability.


    “I but perused the initial query. You should rece it. By my honor falsehoods shall not cross my lips.”


    To underscore her pledge, Millie’s hand ascended in a solemn oath, yet Marcus, swift as a zephyr,


    quelled the gesture and enfolded her within his embrace, a paragon of sce.


    “Fret not.”


    Should her desire dare to traverse the boundless expanse, he’d bestow upon her the entirety of his


    possession, Let alone a mere query of academia.


    In the moment that Leon unmasked Millie’s alias as Aisha, a tempest of anxiety raged within Marcus.


    How ineffable was the sensation of her nestled within his arms now?


    Tenderly did Marcus’ fingertips traverse the expanse of Millie’s brow. a caress as delicate as the flutter


    of a butterfly‘s wing, coaxing her heart into a faster cadence. On this eve, Marcus embraced gentility


    with an ardent embrace.


    Subsequently, they descended onto the plush couch. Millie found herself ensconced within the cradle


    of Marcus’ extended limbs, his embrace enveloping her svelte waist, while aptop found shelter in his


    custody.


    “Do them perplex you? Permit me to illuminate.”


    With digits as lithe as the tendrils of a vine, Marcus directed attention to the luminous screen, his timbre


    imbued with an indulgence that echoed the dulcet symphony of a Luby.


    Lips, as tender as the whisper of zephyrs, brushed against the contours of her ear, bearing with them a


    bouquet of his delightful aroma.


    His intentions remained veiled-was he a scribe of treachery, aiding in academic subversion?


    The chasm between this instance and his customary sternness yawned wide, a dichotomy that left her


    contemtive.


    Millie’s gaze was averted, shying away from the incandescent screen to the countenance of her


    companion. Her gaze, a reflection of her puzzlement, fell upon his visage, her lips ensnared by her own


    pearly incisors.


    “Were you not once unyielding in your vignce? For my earliest transgressions, banishment to


    solitude was my rpense. Why this sudden benevolence? I remain ensnared in bewilderment.”


    “Perhaps if rigor dissolves within academia, disdain may find residence in the hearts of your peers,


    attributing favoritism to my indulgence.”


    These words held truth; Marcus’ public countenance had been one of severity. Yet this facade was not


    without its merits. Being shunned by those resentful of her favor rendered her an odious pariah.


    Therefore, Marcus cloaked her in the cold armor of his impartiality.


    “I won’t solve them now. I’ll wait until the test, with my own ability.”