Gemotions

A tremor ran through Elias's hands as he read the email. Professor Armitage was leaving. Retiring, they said. But Elias knew, looking at the hastily written lines, that it was more than that. He imagined the professor, stooped over his desk, the fluorescent lights harsh on his thinning hair, wrestling with the decision. Elias bit his lip. He needed to be there.

He rose from his chair, a sudden determination blooming in his chest. He grabbed his coat, a worn tweed that his advisor had always admired, and headed across campus. The wind whipped at his face, but he didn't feel it. He pictured the gentle smile, the knowing gaze, the way the professor always made time for him, even when overwhelmed.

He found Professor Armitage in his office, packing. Boxes lined the walls, filled with books and papers. The air was thick with the scent of old ink and regret. Elias simply went and started helping, quietly, without a word. He organized files, labelled boxes, and the unspoken understanding between them was more than enough.