Now you're just being excessive with the flattery.
[And, well, he was excessive in other ways, but she reminds herself it could be way worse.]
I suppose there's something to be said about our stroke of luck. As I said, I'm fine with just texting. Oh, and no pictures of one another, but any object or sight of note should be fine.
Academia is only seen as dull by those looking in from the outside and with no consideration for the different categories of study.
I need to focus on some job preparation now, but you are free to text me in the early afternoon or evening. Don't text me late at night since I'm least likely to answer.
[This is fine right? She's setting boundaries and he's shown to respect them without any signs of escalation that comes from other men who have less grace and only know how to badger.
[So many rules! Still, he is more than happy to follow them, even if he can't quite admit to himself why he's so keen to have further opportunities to talk to her.]
I have some work to tend to as well, and so I will leave you to yours. Thank you, for humoring me. If we don't speak again before you start, I wish you the best of luck with your new job.
[In the week that follows, he abides by the rules that have been set and is careful not to cross any boundaries— he never asks her anything personal, takes care not to trouble her at odd hours or too frequently, but she does receive a few messages here and there that include a picture of an interesting find at an antique bookstore, or a restaurant that he recommends she look into if she has the opportunity. It's all very polite and unintrusive, even if his thoughts keep wandering back to that night— his messages never once reference it after their initial conversation, though a part of him burns to know if it's been on her mind, as well.
Only time will tell, he supposes, but he feels he ought to know better than to expect much. He hardly deserves it— it would be foolish to hope. Then again, despite being known for his brilliance, he's always been the foolish sort.]
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sunfloras2024-01-21 09:17 pm
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[And, well, he was excessive in other ways, but she reminds herself it could be way worse.]
I suppose there's something to be said about our stroke of luck. As I said, I'm fine with just texting. Oh, and no pictures of one another, but any object or sight of note should be fine.
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[There's no denying they both had an interest in literature, at any rate.]
Good thing I'm not the selfie type, or else I might be offended. Impersonal as possible, then. Noted!
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[What is wrong with people?]
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Still, I'm glad it hasn't put you off.
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Not in the least. Admittedly, I'm hard to scare off. Perhaps not what one would expect from a bookish academic.
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[She fits under that umbrella quite neatly.]
Some are just more skilled in being able to seek out and make time for others.
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Well. I'm certain there are some who think it terribly dull regardless, but I suppose you get my meaning.
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I need to focus on some job preparation now, but you are free to text me in the early afternoon or evening. Don't text me late at night since I'm least likely to answer.
[This is fine right? She's setting boundaries and he's shown to respect them without any signs of escalation that comes from other men who have less grace and only know how to badger.
This is fine.]
๐
I have some work to tend to as well, and so I will leave you to yours. Thank you, for humoring me. If we don't speak again before you start, I wish you the best of luck with your new job.
[In the week that follows, he abides by the rules that have been set and is careful not to cross any boundaries— he never asks her anything personal, takes care not to trouble her at odd hours or too frequently, but she does receive a few messages here and there that include a picture of an interesting find at an antique bookstore, or a restaurant that he recommends she look into if she has the opportunity. It's all very polite and unintrusive, even if his thoughts keep wandering back to that night— his messages never once reference it after their initial conversation, though a part of him burns to know if it's been on her mind, as well.
Only time will tell, he supposes, but he feels he ought to know better than to expect much. He hardly deserves it— it would be foolish to hope. Then again, despite being known for his brilliance, he's always been the foolish sort.]