Gemotions

The red "C-" glared back at him from the exam paper. Liam clenched his jaw, the paper crinkling in his grip. Hours, he had poured over the textbook, skipping social events, sacrificing sleep. For *this*? A lukewarm humiliation. The professor, a portly man with a perpetual smirk, would pay.

He started small. Late night emails, each one a query that danced on the edge of rudeness. He’d frame them as innocent questions, carefully worded to chip away at the man’s composure. Was the curve really fair? Did he *consider* the socioeconomic disparities of his students?

Then came the coffee. Liam knew the professor’s routine; the exact time he’d be at the campus cafe. He carefully ‘accidentally’ bumped into him one morning, spilling the professor's latte down his pristine white shirt. The professor spluttered, the smirk vanished. Liam offered a meek apology, all the while savoring the sight of the stain blooming on the fabric.