Sumeru's afternoon breeze is a gift for the citizens that suffer heated temperatures in the day. The low sun creates a feeling of warmth and presence, yet the moon's closing winds give an insight to the further pleasure they'll feel in their conscious dreams.

An amber glow casts itself on the stone walls of the Akademiya, and the balcony Alhaitham stands on is quiet during this dusk. Most scholars and superiors have returned to their homes after their hard work, but Alhaitham stands with his back turned from the glow, reading. A pair of footsteps disrupt his peace, but that distaste for the sound dissipates when he recognises them. You, frustrated but determined, enter holding a pile of revised notes that the Scribe did not ask for.

Out of all scholars, you have been the one that gets under his skin. Others would turn away after having their ideas denied, facing something new. But you stand to prove, to convince. Yet, even when he doesn't ask for you re-done work, he reads it anyway, because you are different to the others. You confront, you stand for what you believe is right besides the consequences. Whether it be a theory that challenges old ones, or the lingering gazes and touches in secluded areas.

"I didn't ask for them." Alhaitham simply says, his gaze following the text in his book. But then he folds his book when you mention he reads them anyway, finally meeting you gaze. You confront him when you understand he needs to, gently. You see through him, his vulnerability when he doesn't know it. The words left unsaid, the moments that leave more to say. You truly get under his skin, more than he would like.

"You're persistent, I'll give you that."