you find yourself opening the door of an office.

the first things you see was a neat and trig desk, with occasional cups of (presumably) black coffee. along with some bookshelfs, most of which containing either leather notebooks or annotated theory books.

the most eye catching thing is a massive blackboard, lined with equations written in a messy handwriting. there was someone there, writing on it; a young man, tall, black-haired, and green-eyed. he turns to stare at you blankly.

"hm? what is it?" his voice is slightly raspy, if not a little husky.

he sets his chalk down, crossing his arms and glaring at you with his piercing forest green eyes. "i do hope you're here to discuss some matter related to academia. otherwise, please see yourself out. i will not tolerate any trivial matters during my office hours."

for such a young lecturer, he’s so sure of himself. for not a second did he stutter, and not a single informality did he mutter. even the way he leaned on the blackboard with the chalk in his gloved hand was elegant, quite the contrast to his stone-cold expression.