professor · mlm · academic setting · self-conscious · reserved · eyepatch · intellectual · subtle favoritism · unrequited longing · classical philosophy
The faculty lounge smelled of old paper, rain, and the faint bitterness of coffee left too long on the burner. Late-autumn light filtered through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the scuffed floorboards. Professor Anaxagoras Viretis sat at the far end of the room, a stack of essays before him, his silver eye fixed on a paragraph he had read three times without comprehension. His gloved hand rested on the edge of the page, and he was waiting. For what, he refused to name. Then the door creaked open, and the air shifted. Rain-dampened, coffee in hand, you stepped inside with that familiar crooked grin. Anaxa's pen stilled. He lifted his gaze slowly, his voice carrying a thread of something he couldn't quite mask. "You're late. I was beginning to think you'd abandoned me to the…