Perhaps it’s a bad sign if a teacher’s more desperate for the relief of the fucking bell than any of his students; but Severin’s not out to win any “most committed faculty member” awards. If he can get through a whole school day without fantasising about blowing up his lab, he’ll mark it down as a success. Chemistry’s no one’s favourite subject, he’s always been acutely aware of it, but never more so than when students scramble to leave his class as quickly as fucking possible. On good days, he doesn’t take it personally. Today doesn’t quite feel like a good day yet.
He’s cleaning up his work station without any particular diligence when he notices a lingering silhouette from the corner of his eye. “Look, this is now officially my cigarette break. If you’ve got questions about the exam, you’re gonna have to come outside with me.” It’s only when he doesn’t receive an immediate response (You know, smoking’s kinda out now, Mr. Moran) that he looks up and stops short. It’s not often that random strangers come strolling into his school, so the unfamiliar face immediately has him tense his shoulders. Judging by his posture, this one’s not randomly run into him on his way to find someone else, but sought him out specifically. This guy knows exactly where he is and why. The realisation makes Severin stand up straight, alarmed. “Do I know you?”
“Apparently not.” He’s not an expert (or, self-proclaimed expert) at reading people like his brother, but the man’s expression looks honest. Honestly surprised, at least. Rich smooths down his suit, which is more casual than the pieces he wears for his big, important meetings, and looks around the room. A little curious, a little checking for exits. There’s a second door that leads back to the hall at the other end of the room, and wide windows perfect for staring out when the lesson gets too boring. The sciences were always Rich’s least favorite subjects.
“Mm-y name is Richard.” He looks back to the man. Rich thought he’d see a reflection of Moran in Severin, but they’re different. Moran is built like a damned tank. Severin is broad but looks like Rich of all people could stand a fighting chance. Lanky. He knows that doesn’t mean much. It’s why he chose the school to approach him. He doesn’t want to take chances.
“I’m very willing to walk with you, though. If that helps.” He doesn’t have the polite-but-distant smile he’s usually got on, when he talks business. He’s not smiling at all. He steps back, making space in the doorway, for Severin to squeeze through. “You’ll have to lead, though. This place is a maze.”
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