[Sub-Mission complete!][Points gained: 700][New total taboo Points: #####]Tristan was excited to see that his points had gone up. He had successfully completed the mission. Though he was filled with extreme joy, it wasn't because of the points. It was for another reason entirely.He had been with professor Wynters, the most beautiful professor on campus. He had fucked her!“It feels like a dream.” he couldn't help but say out loud, his face glued to her body as she dressed. He couldn't believe he had gone between those legs, fucked her and even came inside her. If he were told that one day, he would fuck her in her office, he would never believe.“What is like a dream?” she asked him at once, snapping him back from these thoughts.He was stuck, unsure of what to reply to her.“Come one, put you on your clothes. You're the one who wants me to go to class, are you not?” she asked him.“Yes, yes, yes!” He yelled at once, immediately scrambling for his clothes to join her in dresses. I

The way he had rushed out the moment the lecture ended was like he was definitely avoiding something or people. Added to the fact that he didn't sit with them. That told a lot of stories and no amount of excuses was going to hide the fact that he didn't want to be with them.“You know, it's not easy for us girls to throw ourselves on you like this. It's better to stop making a fool out of us. If you don't want us, then just say it. I'm tired of trying to figure out my place in your life,” she said to him. She was serious, and it was all written all over her face. She was usually very playful and teasing in her words, but all that had disappeared. It was replaced by frustration born of uncertainty.“How can you say such a thing?” He asked her, leaning back slightly as though struck by the sudden sharpness of her tone. “Is that how I make you feel?” He asked again, trying to make her say more, so he would know how deeply his actions had pierced her.Tracy was smart. Unlike the other gi

Only for him to glance well and see it's not his mom. Professor Wynters’ name appeared before disappearing.Tristan didn’t pick it up. He stared at the phone for a few seconds, his jaw tight, and caught the first line of the message before looking away.“We need to talk about what happens next.”He immediately turned the phone face-down, slipped it into his bag, and made his way to the library.He needed quiet. He needed space. Whatever she wanted to discuss could wait until he was ready to answer.But the guilt came with him. It weighed heavily in his chest, silent but constant, refusing to fade no matter how much he tried to ignore it.Outside, he kept his eyes on the pavement, counting the cracks, anything to stop his thoughts from returning to those words on the screen.“We need to talk about what happens next.” Six words, yet somehow they had left him struggling to breathe.He pushed them aside, just like he had been pushing everything else away lately, head lowered, shoulders ten

Professor Wynters sat on the edge of her hotel room bed, with her phone resting between both hands as she stared at the screen.Tristan’s last message was still there. Without being answered.She had opened the conversation at least twenty times in the past hour. She had typed out three different replies, stared at each one, then deleted them before sending. Every response sounded wrong, too eager, cold, and honest.She tossed the phone onto the bed, only to pick it up again a few seconds later.But there was still nothing on it. No explanation, no messages, not even a simple excuse.And somehow, that silence bothered her more than an argument would have.It wasn’t anger she felt coming from Tristan. Anger would have been easier. At least anger meant he cared enough to react.This was different. He was pulling away.And distance had a way of hurting far more than words ever could.She exhaled slowly and opened Tinder, mostly out of frustration. She told herself she was only looking, a

Tristan never imagined he would run into her again.Certainly not here.For a moment, he remained where he was, watching her from across the bar while a strange mixture of curiosity and disbelief settled in his chest. He could have ignored her. In fact, that probably would have been the smarter choice.But before he could convince himself to stay where he was, he found himself moving toward her.He wasn’t even sure what he wanted from the encounter. An explanation, perhaps. Or maybe he simply needed to understand why seeing her again had affected him more than he cared to admit.By the time he reached her, the question came out before he had a chance to reconsider it.“What are you doing here?”His voice was quiet, controlled, with the faintest hint of amusement. Still, beneath the casual tone was an unmistakable edge. He wasn’t as relaxed as he was trying to sound, and he suspected she could hear it.She turned toward him.Surprise flashed across her features almost immediately. F