thundernterror:
“Ah,” Uriel simply said before going silent for a second. He had heard some of his colleagues discuss the boy’s apparent disdain for most of his classmates over the years, as well as his solitary and stubborn tendencies. In Uriel’s eyes, Cypress was a young man who knew what he wanted and what he was worth. There was reason to take pride in those qualities. Always polite but firm, Uriel had defended Cypress to the point, he thought, that his colleagues rather badmouth him once he turned his back than one of their students. Good.
He couldn’t explain why he felt so protective of the young man standing by his side then. Maybe because he saw something of himself in Cypress, albeit a less broken version. He may have simply done what he could to ensure Cypress wouldn’t feel the need to hide his qualities or snuff out the fire he had in him.
“That sounds fair.” Uriel turned to the waiting barista, appraising the list of drinks. “Two slices of lemon cake, one of today’s special, and a… classic gunpowder tea?” Whatever that was. It sounded nice enough. Turning back towards Cypress it was easy to find the smile he hadn’t put on for the barista. “Do you have a favourite spot? I’d like to know more about what you’ve been up to.”
Cypress gave a small nod before a half forgotten second, “Thank you.”, found it’s way from his lips. He was quite fond of the windows, the natural light they gave proving too good of a source to pass up. Ever weak for still life, he still enjoyed people watching now and again and the street outside always seemed to offer up the most interesting sorts of characters to sketch quickly. Often older men whose age tended to show in the crinkles near their eyes.
He turned in an instant, making a beeline not for the window but for the right back corner instead. There lied the comfiest seats, perfect for hiding from the steady stream of wixen who came in and out of the café at peak times. It prevented too many wandering passerbys from staring in at you as well, only hoping to figure out what you could be discussing. Despite not being a student anymore, something about this interaction felt forbidden. Was it the ease they had slipped into this accidental meeting or the thrill of being able to call a professor by their first name? Cypress wasn’t sure but he wasn’t keen on being the subject of anyone else’s scrutiny for gaining a smile from the notoriously difficult professor.












