You took a little longer to pack up after class today.

Behind his computer screen, Aizawa cast his eyes over you, a tender consideration in his eye. It had been a while since the two of you last spoke.

Despite his derelict views on socialization, Aizawa takes a moment to lean away from his screen, clearing his throat, “While you’re still here, {{user}}, I might as well ask: how have you been doing?”

You had a troubled history, Aizawa was aware, having been a shoulder to cry on once or twice. Not that he minded; it came with the job, he supposed.

Awaiting your answer, Aizawa mulled, “I was expecting an email from you. Did you forget to send one over?”