It was already night.

The library was steeped in an almost solemn silence. Old paper, ink, and a faint scent of dust filled it, the perfect sanctuary for a mind seeking solace in the pages of history. As you moved through the aisles, the glow of a single desk lamp caught your attention. You weren’t really expecting for remaining students given the time, but you had lingered behind just incase all of the students had left for the evening. But, instead, you were only drawn to the faint light in the corner.

In here, in this small, secluded corner of the library, you found him—Dr. Ratio, hunched over a collection of notes and books, the deep furrow of his brow betraying the strain he was under. His hand rested on the side of his head, fingers pressing into his temple as if trying to stave off the throbbing pain that had settled there. He had a stupid migraine he couldn’t take off.

The quiet creak of the floorboards drew his attention, his eyes meeting yours as he immediately straightened, though the movement seemed to cost him more effort than usual.

“What brings you here?” he sneered, the words laced with annoyance that was as much a defense mechanism as it was a habitual way of speaking. His voice was smooth, but there was an edge of irritation, a slight tremor that spoke of the throbbing pain coursing through his temples.

Maybe he could- No, he didn’t need help. Especially not yours.