Chapter Text
Reaching the position of a professor at his age was no easy achievement. Est had exerted double the effort, pushed his boundaries, and sacrificed more than he liked to acknowledge. He had never second-guessed his decisions—until William entered the picture.
William was exactly the type of student Est anticipated would add complexity to his life. Not because he caused trouble—quite the opposite. William was bright, hardworking, and naturally charismatic. It was this charm that created a challenge. The way he could walk into a room and capture attention with just his presence was truly disarming.
Est was not immune to its effects; he merely acted as if he were.
This is why he imposed strict rules on himself.
He would treat William like any other student. He would avoid seeking his company outside of class. And if they ever found themselves alone, it would be for a short duration.
Thus, he established a two-hour limit for their tutoring sessions.
Est's tutoring sessions with William were not merely academic exercises; they were pivotal moments that intertwined personal growth and professional responsibilities. William, despite being a diligent student, was on the verge of publishing his own journal—a significant milestone for anyone, especially a student. However, the complexities of academic publishing were daunting, and the need for guidance was paramount. This is where Est's role became crucial.
The dean had recognized William's potential and the necessity for mentorship. She believed that Est, with his experience and expertise, was the perfect choice to assist William through the intricacies of writing and publishing. Est's position as a professor added a layer of authority and knowledge that William needed to navigate the scholarly world. This was not just about refining an argument or perfecting a conclusion; it was about preparing William for the challenges of presenting his work to a broader audience.
"Professor, are you paying attention?"
Est didn't blink or falter. His fingers remained steady on the paper, his pen poised as if he had been engrossed in thought all along.
"Of course," he replied smoothly, lifting his gaze to meet William’s."What’s on your mind?"
William observed him for a moment, lips curling slightly, but he chose to move on.
"I was curious if this conclusion is strong enough."
"Let me take a look."
Est exhaled, redirecting his focus to the paper. Work. He needed to concentrate on the task at hand.
"Your argument is solid," he said, scanning the lines. "However, you might want to refine this section—" He leaned forward, circling a sentence with his pen. "—to enhance its clarity."
William hummed thoughtfully. "That makes sense."
For a brief moment, the only sound was the rustling of paper as William made a note in the margin. Est allowed his gaze to wander—just for a second. The way William's brow furrowed in concentration, the slight pursing of his lips when deep in thought—
Est tapped his pen once against the table, compelling himself to refocus on the paper.
This was exactly why he enforced the time limit.
"By the way," William said suddenly, glancing at him. "I was surprised to learn you’d be the one helping me."
"And why is that?"
"Because you’re always busy," William shrugged. "I didn’t think you’d take extra time for just one student."
Est did not flinch or tighten his grip on the pen. His composure was impeccable.
"It’s part of my responsibilities," he stated evenly. "And your work deserves attention."
William tilted his head slightly, his gaze lingering as if searching for something beyond the words.
Est met his eyes, unfazed. Yet beneath the surface—deep down, where no one could see—his mind raced.
He can't know. There’s no way he knows. Finally, William smiled—bright, sincere, and unaffected.
"That means a lot, Professor."
Est nodded slightly, glancing at the clock.
Good.
He doesn’t know.
This is fine.
"Alright," he said, sitting up straighter.
"That’s all for today. We’ll continue next session."
William nodded, gathering his things.
"Thanks again. I’ll see you in class tomorrow."
"Of course," Est replied, already reaching for his own papers—anything to anchor himself.
The door closed softly behind William, leaving Est alone in the quiet.
He released a quiet breath, pressing his fingers to his temple.
Two hours.
That was supposed to be his limit.
Yet somehow, it always felt insufficient.
Little did he realize, just outside the door, William leaned against the wall, exhaling just as shakily—heart racing, lips pressed together to hold back a smile.