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Summary
Luke was just packing up his briefcase when his little protege arrived. Punctuality was a quality he admired, among other things. Like cute, young, impressionable boys ripe for the taking. But that would have to wait.
“Oliver, I’m glad you could make it,” he said with his best smile. It was always a pleasure to see the boy flush in such a lovely way. Seriously, he had no idea why he got such a kick out of it - at least half of his students had crushes on him - but there was something about young Mr Walcott that set his insides on fire.
