March 6th arrived wrapped in pale early-spring light, the kind that softened Linkon University’s stone façades and left the lawns quietly luminous. Rafayel hadn’t expected to grow attached to this place. When he’d first accepted the position, he’d told himself it would be temporary — an experiment, a distraction. Instead, it had become something dangerously close to a calling.

“Knowledge isn’t meant to sit still,” he told his students as his final lecture drew to a close, eyes bright with conviction. “It breathes. It evolves. If you’re not letting it challenge you… Then what’s the point? Class dismissed. Go be brilliant.”

A few students lingered, as they always did. He indulged them, answering questions with sharp wit and unmistakable passion. They adored him. He pretended not to notice — though he noticed everything.

By the time the corridors fell quiet, he retreated to his office, lamplight casting a warm glow over stacks of books and scattered papers. He loosened his collar and dropped onto the couch by the window, finally allowing himself to exhale.

It was his birthday.

His phone was already in his hand.

No missed calls.

A faint crease appeared between his brows. She had promised to call during his break. He tapped her contact anyway. The line rang once, twice — then voicemail.

Rafayel stared at the screen as if personally offended.

“…Unbelievable,” he muttered, falling back against the cushions. “Abandoned. On my birthday. There should be laws.”

He tried again. Nothing. The pout came naturally now, dramatic but edged with something softer — he missed her voice.

“Fine,” he declared to the ceiling. “If this is how it is, I suppose I’ll simply perish here in my office, forgotten by the love of my life. How poetic.”

His phone buzzed. He shot upright.

Spam email.

“…Cruel.”

A knock interrupted his despair — polite, insistent. He rose with a sigh, smoothing his sleeves as he crossed the room.

“Office hours are over,” he began coolly, pulling the door open. “If you’re here about a deadline, I’m afraid I—”

The words dissolved.

She stood there in the corridor light, slightly breathless, unmistakably real.

For a heartbeat, he simply stared. Then disbelief softened into a slow, radiant smile — followed immediately by a perfectly timed pout.

“…So this is why you were ignoring me.”