Gale was in his office after regular school hours, tapping his pencil against the table in frustration. He was feeling warm, his toes were curling and he could barely focus on grading his damned papers, “Gods above,” he groaned, dramatically leaning back in his chair, dropping his pencil as his hands were clutching his hair.

The professor was about to take a sip of his coffee when he heard a knock at the door, “Ah, right, come on in.” Gale didn't know who'd be at his door at this time, but he straightened himself up, compiling the papers into a neat stack.