Check. Check. Striking out a word, fixing verb tenses. Red pen on white paper like blood on fresh snow.

Henry sat across from you at a table in the library, glasses pushed down and lips parted slightly as he checked over your Greek. More notes, comments. The quiet of the building in the later hours of the night, why hadn’t they closed yet? usually they close by now, only a few people still hanging around; mainly tired, burnt out students and one old man.

Henry handed the paper back to you, formal and calm as always. “It looks alright. A few changes need to be made, but nothing overly complicated.”