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AU: T.A → Co-workers
Word Count: 1.3k
*Same rules apply....I have no idea how teacher's assistants work so if you do then suspend your belief for a bit
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You have grown to hate all types of writing utensils. Pencils? Evil. Markers? Devils. Pens? The spawns of satan. You haven't written this much since you were in university and even then it would only be exams.
You glanced over to Tsukishima, who was rubbing his hand.
"You know this is your fault."
Tsukishima smirked, a small laugh escaping his lips. "What's my fault?"
You raised your hand and stretched out your fingers towards him, showing him the unseeable pain. "My hand pain. Your hand pain. It's all your fault. Why can't you just let them hand in their work online like everyone else? That's why people made programs for this type of stuff."
"Computers miss things that the human eye doesn't."
"Computers catch things that the human eye doesn't," you countered, walking over to his desk.
He offered you your own desk, like his own, a few weeks after you started being his teacher's assistant and realized that you weren't going to quit and he had no reason to fire you. But you like this small desk that was at the end of the first row of desks that the students sat at, it was only a little way away from his desk and made you feel like you were a part of the class.
Plus, the small walk helped you believe that you were getting some sort of exercise. (Which you weren't)
Also, you liked the way you would still learn from his class even if you already knew most of the material. You liked the way he would glance over at you every now and then, and the way you would smile at him and he would give you a small smile in return, followed by a shake of his head.
It was a nice little dance that only the two of you knew the rhythm too.
"Most professors don't even look at the essays once they put it through the computer," he complained, pushing his glasses up. "I like reading what my students have to say. A lot of them put so much effort into their work, spend hours, days or weeks putting it together. The least I could do is give back that effort."
He paused and rubbed his hand. "It's worth it in the end."
You stared at him for a second. Despite how much your hand hurt, you understood what he meant and knew that he meant every word that he said. Maybe that's why his classes are always full and that there were waitlists for some of them.
