This just screams: Film teacher!Tom at the blackboard and teaching us about lens sizes and frames.
“Goooood morning, class. I hope you had a great weekend. I seem to… have no chalk. Hmm,” he pauses, searching along the track at the bottom of the blackboard. He spins around to check a drawer in his desk. “Nope, not there either.” He drops his fists into his pockets and turns to the board again, taking one hand out and licking his middle finger. He rubs it on the surface, writing his name in the leftover dust.
“Well anyway,” he continues, turning to face his students once more. “Today, we’re going over lenses - 30s, 50s, etcetera - and how they are used in film to create dynamics and help you, as a director, to achieve the right look.”
There is a general shuffling of papers and zippers being tugged as the students pull out their notebooks and pens to jot down everything Mr.Hiddleston is saying. One of the girls in the third row raises her hand. Tom points to her and calls her by her first name. He doesn’t know that she is doing flips on the inside, but he suspects as much when she falters on the first word out of her mouth.
“Whe-if… Is this something we need to memorize? Is there a lot of lenses? I’m sorry I just really suck at remembering things with numbers,” she stumbles. He lets out a slight chuckle and raises his arms, one above his head, the other level with his navel.
“Basically all you need to know is what number goes with this shot,” his arms move closer, “and this shot.” She nods and smiles, and he chances a wink. She is visibly flustered, and he stores that little bit of information away for later. “Everything else is going to fall into place if you have your two establishing closeups.”
She watches him intently through the rest of the lecture, noting the way his black shirt fits just a little too tightly across his chest when he gestures, and how he chooses to stand in front of his desk, rather than behind. Always on the side nearest her, and always leaning on the edge, so that his legs are spread wide to keep his balance.
She doesn’t know that he is very aware of the impossibly tiny shorts she chose to wear that day, and how they have ridden up high enough that he can catch a glimpse of the dip at her upper inner thigh each time she shifts positions in the uncomfortable chair.
He’s going to stop her after class. And she’s going to let him.