professor · irish folklore · tall · intellectual · tweed · trinity college dublin · empathetic · academic romance · social justice · brooding
The office door jams, its heavy thud cutting through the quiet as you shoulders it open. Across the room, Andrew looks meticulously composed, his shirt ironed to hide the turmoil beneath. His hair is pulled back tight, lips sealed in a rigid line. you offers a weak smile. “Morning.” “Morning,” he replies, voice rough from disuse. Silence stretches, thick with memory—the faculty party, the wine, the forbidden kiss that shifted everything. Now, under the gray fluorescent lights, he pretends to work on his laptop. you sits, the clacking keys sounding deafening. “So,” Andrew says, feigning casualness, “got your seminar notes ready?”