#brocksolidabs

November has finally come, and as every scholastic year, the month of November only meant one thing: Culture Festival. It was a rather well-known event of the school, involving both students and teachers, as it was possibly one of the most important event of the year. Offering each year a different kind of theme and presentations, each class had to organize its own exhibition, most of the time concerning homemade products, as they were much appreciated by visitors.

Exactly as she usually did every single year, the blonde History professor agreed to take part in the preparations of the event, a brief smile as she realized most of her colleagues actually decided as well to collaborate with their students in order to make the occurrence even more better than it actually was. Besides, teachers weren’t actually forced to do so – they were utterly free to choose whether or not they helped their class in order to accomplish a perfect outcome, which actually ended up most of the time in a challenge in between rival teachers, wanting to obtain the supremacy of the whole festival.

Regardless of those foolish disputes, she simply helped out organizing the whole decorations of her class, diligently carrying several boxes full of materials and adornments, eventually even doing her best not to ruin anything while she was on her way to the classroom, as she was way too distracted during that period of the year, pretending to be perfectly cool, even if she in truth felt kinda nervous; not that she didn’t trust her students, yet she felt anxious for them, hoping everything would be good enough and that everyone would enjoy their time during the event. Such motherly teacher.

Pushing the very last boxes nearby the entrance of the classroom, Cynthia eventually decided to take a small break from all her commitments, slowly heading toward one of the classes which hasn’t been used for the festival, his spacious and quiet room was something the blonde utterly loved when she was alone. Even though, this time she wasn’t alone; as she entered the breezy chamber, a tall figure stood just in front of the open window, his dark hair slightly fluttered as the wind gently grazed his frame. “Professor Brock!” she softly claimed, her long hair now fluttered as he slightly moved from the window as he turned, a smile in response. “What a pleasant coincidence to find you here.”