Summer Haze [BL]

Chapter 7 - Winter

𝘈𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦.

"You are...?"

I stared at the man sitting in my faculty area, specifically at my desk. He rested his foot on his other knee with his head propped on his palm.

Back slouching, the man spun around on the chair, and I peered into his clouded eyes of ambiguity. When he turned, his exquisite curly black hair swayed across his forehead.

Murmurs circulated around the office. All the teachers tried to avoid looking in my direction. Still, their curiosity overtook their actions, so they talked louder than a usual whisper about the man sitting in my seat.

It was the stranger with his dog, Tangerine, from yesterday. Though a different band-aid was on his hand this time, I could recognise that uniquely blank face anywhere.

"I didn't know we would see each other again this soon," the familiar stranger chuckled with a rather sly, enigmatic expression.

The deputy principal walked into the room and greeted the man sitting in my seat.

"I see you have met your supervisor! This is August Hayes, our literature teacher. If you have any problems or questions with our school, just ask him, and he will answer your inquiries."

Without warning, my head fogged up, and all these questions and thoughts crammed into my mind. This man was the famous art director's son?

The deputy principal nudged my arm twice, darting his eyes between us. At once, I nodded and smiled.

"Welcome to our school. It's a pleasure to have you here, Mr. Lawrence."

He stood up and stepped closer to me, only a few inches apart. A vast grin smeared across his face, the corners of his lips compressing his cheeks.

"We meet again."

"Yes. It ended up raining heavily yesterday. I hope you arrived home safely."

The other teachers became silent, and the whispers within the office instantly died out.

"Did you two meet already? That makes things much easier!" the deputy awkwardly laughed.

"You can just call me Winter."

"Ah... alright."

I placed my materials down. The deputy rubbed his hands, maintaining a crooked smile that was on the verge of breaking off. Henry used to tell me, or rather, complain about the director's son, but to think I would meet him wasn't what I had expected.

"I'm sure our staff is very excited to meet you."

Winter glanced around the room, and everyone instantly gave a distorted smile. While he looked at the teachers, he offered the most ambiguous grin. His cheekbones almost pushed his lower eyelids to meet the upper, yet his eyes remained dim. He waved at them, and everyone instantly grew pale.

Immediately, he straightened his lips and turned back around, leaning against the table with crossed arms.

"I hope you enjoy your stay at the school. August, go show him around the library first since you have a class first period."

"Yes, sir."

The deputy left, but the office was still swallowed in this inexplicable silence, as though if someone was to make a noise, all eyes would be on them.

"I'll show you to the library."

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"So, you just need to scan those pile of books in that trolley, then it should show up on the system regarding the student who borrowed the textbook, and the status of the availability should change to green," I said, scanning a physics textbook before placing it on the counter next to me.

"After you scan all of those textbooks, pile them over here and place them in their respective areas."

All the time I was speaking, he was focused on my words and paid extreme attention to the instructions. The character of Winter Lawrence didn't match exactly what my co-workers gossiped about, but it was clear why they preferred to maintain their distance.

If one spoke to him for too long, they would probably go insane. He was brutally honest—completely disregarding the other party's feelings—but not at the same time. He knew when to be obedient. Yet I didn't know whether to receive his compliancy towards me with unsettledness or relief.

"I'll show you around the shelves. Here is the A-C academic resource section where most of these textbooks will go. But from here to down there," I said and pointed down the aisle. "That section is all for academic resources. Is there anything that confuses you?"

"...Are you a librarian or a teacher?"

"It must appear strange to you, but this is a small school, and there's not that many staff here. I just help with the library when I can, but there is a librarian though she comes to work around 10."

Unknowingly, my breaths would slow down every time we made eye contact. It might have just been my struggles in maintaining eye contact with people in general—except a few people who I had known for a long time—but it was more challenging to do so with Winter.

I showed him around the shelves, and the more I examined that smile, the more I realised how his manner had changed slightly. Replacing the image of mockery that he wore since we met, a tint of solitude washed his face, producing a refreshing sense of solemnity. I didn't know why he was looking at me in that way.

We were strangers, but this stare was what someone would look at after finding a long-lost family member.

My mouth dropped after realising what the time was.

"I need to head to class now. Do you have any questions?"

"No."

"Alright. If you need me, I will be in classroom B405. You can ask anyone around if you don't know where it is because I'm sure the other teachers will help you."

Winter nodded, and I went off to my class.

I knew Winter, no, I knew of him (mainly just his name) from Henry since they were both from the fine arts department. From what I remembered about what Henry told me, both Winter and his father were highly gifted in their craft.

Every time Henry spoke of Winter, who he always referred to as "the director's son," a slight annoyance and frustration sparked in his face, even though Henry never showed such dislike to anyone. So, the only thought I had then, without even knowing who this "director's son" was, was that he must be cocky.

I had probably seen Winter once on campus when I met up with Henry. Other than that, I didn't know much about him.