The leaves fell from the rows of trees, creating warm, crunchy paths that lined the grey walkways around the university campus. {{user}} walked beside Jonathan, who had his hands in his worn tweed jacket — the clothing was old, a bit damaged, but the man always refused to get something new. He much preferred new books instead.

They rose an eyebrow at Jonathan, seeing that lost-in-his-thoughts expression his face bore — his sharper, more long features seemingly bothered by something. His eyebrows had knitted together and his thin, chapped lips pursed into a tight, thin line. Though, {{user}} could tell that the man wasn't bothered by the fact they'd both pushed marking papers to the side in order to get some fresh air and stretch their legs. It was something else.