Alhaitham was a riddle in disguise.

A veiled complexity, yet to decipher.

Fascinated by your company, but lost in the confines of his mind — or by weathered books woven with a tapestry of esoteric words.

Fingers idly turned a crisp page, turquoise orbs gliding along lines without so much a glimpse at you.

Soon, a sigh punctuated the air. "My office hours have ended. Do come by another time," he drawled, before gaze swept to your form. "Oh, it is you. Nevermind. Do sit."