[He had, so far, made every effort to act as though this semester were the same as any other. Some days, he almost fooled himself into believing that it worked, but as the second week of the semester starts in earnest, it's started to become clear that his efforts thusfar would not be in the least bit sustainable.
He'd had, vainly, every hope that he and the new dean of Blackstaff would be able to behave professionally and with all due courtesy, by and large allowing one another to go about their business. That hope had been dashed almost immediately; after that first meeting before the start of the semester, Dr. Manx had called him to her office to discuss a few last minute changes to his class schedule. Budget cuts and lack of appropriate staff were the reasoning that had been cited, and while they were valid enough, Gale couldn't help but feel that he had been assigned both Remedial Physics and Introduction to Astronomy as some sort of punishment, given the petty streak he knew her to have— despite the fact that he was certain that he was not the one responsible for any past wrongdoing.
In the end, it wasn't worth arguing. The classes were simple enough, material he could teach in his sleep, though they did keep his schedule fuller than he would like and compromised time spent with the research group of graduate students he was meant to direct— but he would find a way to balance it all. He always did, and if it kept him busy, then all the better. Less time to worry about what he might have to say next time he crossed Dr. Manx's path outside of a meeting, and less time to worry about the Eva situation.
It was hardly a situation, though, was it? Eva— or Amelia, he should call her, if he should call her anything at all after she'd made it clear she wished to proceed as though they had never so much as spoken before— Professor Steinbeck had been quite busy managing her own classload and finding her niche here at Waterdeep University, and seemed to be doing quite well despite having come in at such a chaotic time. Word had already spread about the firm stance she'd taken with her classes and her teaching approach, and for a moment, he'd almost allowed himself to feel proud of her ability to balance a strict stance with effectively setting her students up to prosper, only to remind himself that he was in no position to feel anything about what she did or did not do.
Whatever he might have thought for those few days before that fateful meeting, he was a stranger to her, and she had been quite plain in that she wished it to remain that way. He thought about it more than he'd liked, of course; he'd had to explain himself to Tara when he'd met her for dinner after that first day, and though he omitted a great deal of detail, she had gotten the picture well enough, offered her sympathies and encouraged him to let his work carry him forward— he was always happiest when he had a project.
'Happy,' unfortunately, felt very far away at this moment. Sleep had not been coming easily, and this morning found him both pale and weary-looking as he made his way towards the lounge in hopes of grabbing a second cup of coffee before he went about his day. The most recent issue of an astronomy journal had found its way onto his desk that morning with a note tacked on the front of it that simply read "HAVE YOU SEEN THIS??" without any further elaboration. It hadn't needed any— a few moments of leafing through the forward brought his attention to the feature article in question, one whose headline made his blood boil.
Coffee. Coffee would help him push past this enough to let him focus his attention where it ought to be, but he's so entirely out of sorts that he doesn't even see a certain red-headed professor until he hears his name, causing him to stop sharply in his tracks and collect himself with some middling degree of success.]
Oh, Ev— [No, no.] ... Professor Steinbeck. Good morning.
[He may as well have been on another planet, with how distant and surreal this moment felt, but even so, he felt his heart leap into his throat for a moment. He had hoped that a week and some change would have been enough to numb him to the still-vivid memory of her, to make her less strikingly lovely to him.
no subject
He'd had, vainly, every hope that he and the new dean of Blackstaff would be able to behave professionally and with all due courtesy, by and large allowing one another to go about their business. That hope had been dashed almost immediately; after that first meeting before the start of the semester, Dr. Manx had called him to her office to discuss a few last minute changes to his class schedule. Budget cuts and lack of appropriate staff were the reasoning that had been cited, and while they were valid enough, Gale couldn't help but feel that he had been assigned both Remedial Physics and Introduction to Astronomy as some sort of punishment, given the petty streak he knew her to have— despite the fact that he was certain that he was not the one responsible for any past wrongdoing.
In the end, it wasn't worth arguing. The classes were simple enough, material he could teach in his sleep, though they did keep his schedule fuller than he would like and compromised time spent with the research group of graduate students he was meant to direct— but he would find a way to balance it all. He always did, and if it kept him busy, then all the better. Less time to worry about what he might have to say next time he crossed Dr. Manx's path outside of a meeting, and less time to worry about the Eva situation.
It was hardly a situation, though, was it? Eva— or Amelia, he should call her, if he should call her anything at all after she'd made it clear she wished to proceed as though they had never so much as spoken before— Professor Steinbeck had been quite busy managing her own classload and finding her niche here at Waterdeep University, and seemed to be doing quite well despite having come in at such a chaotic time. Word had already spread about the firm stance she'd taken with her classes and her teaching approach, and for a moment, he'd almost allowed himself to feel proud of her ability to balance a strict stance with effectively setting her students up to prosper, only to remind himself that he was in no position to feel anything about what she did or did not do.
Whatever he might have thought for those few days before that fateful meeting, he was a stranger to her, and she had been quite plain in that she wished it to remain that way. He thought about it more than he'd liked, of course; he'd had to explain himself to Tara when he'd met her for dinner after that first day, and though he omitted a great deal of detail, she had gotten the picture well enough, offered her sympathies and encouraged him to let his work carry him forward— he was always happiest when he had a project.
'Happy,' unfortunately, felt very far away at this moment. Sleep had not been coming easily, and this morning found him both pale and weary-looking as he made his way towards the lounge in hopes of grabbing a second cup of coffee before he went about his day. The most recent issue of an astronomy journal had found its way onto his desk that morning with a note tacked on the front of it that simply read "HAVE YOU SEEN THIS??" without any further elaboration. It hadn't needed any— a few moments of leafing through the forward brought his attention to the feature article in question, one whose headline made his blood boil.
Coffee. Coffee would help him push past this enough to let him focus his attention where it ought to be, but he's so entirely out of sorts that he doesn't even see a certain red-headed professor until he hears his name, causing him to stop sharply in his tracks and collect himself with some middling degree of success.]
Oh, Ev— [No, no.] ... Professor Steinbeck. Good morning.
[He may as well have been on another planet, with how distant and surreal this moment felt, but even so, he felt his heart leap into his throat for a moment. He had hoped that a week and some change would have been enough to numb him to the still-vivid memory of her, to make her less strikingly lovely to him.
Unfortunately, it had not.]
I— hope you've been settling in well?