#fessor

Enjoy! (Will be reblogged to kazewriteswhump)

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Gabriel Lane Herondale was in a bit of a pickle, a conundrum so to speak. The chilly wind slapped his pale face, blowing his grey hair into his eyes as he huffed down the cobblestone path of Davenport’s main campus. A stinging burning sensation already had nestled in his chest but running late on the first day of teaching was not an option.

Entering the corridor of Wesley Hall, Gabriel pushed a shoulder against the solid old oak door forcing it open. His red scarf nearly undone sliding off his neck needed a readjustment however Gabriel’s tight chest forced him over. Bending to catch his breath the scarf slid onto the floor. “Blast it.” The words came through a high pitched wheeze. Gabriel reached down fetching the garment.

Removing an inhaler from his pocket, he shook it quickly then pressed it to his lips drawing in the healing mist. Temporary relief in hand, he began to trudge down the hall toward where he assumed the elevator should be. His class was on the fourth floor of Wesley, a building which dated back almost a hundred years, the asthmatic professor definitely did not want to climb any stairs. Rounding the corner still fighting for a decent breath a rush of disappointment, much like the cool autumn wind, rushed over him.

Out of Order.

Gabriel stared hopeless at the sign taped to the elevator door a defeated “Oh dear.” sighed out of him. Another asthmatic wheezed escaped forcing his inhaler back to his mouth. Looking around, Gabriel wondered if perhaps there was a second lift. A janitor stood a few steps from him.

“Excuse me.” He coughed out quickly clearing his throat. The janitor looked up from his mopping duty. “Is there another lift…” Gabriel could barely finish, his breath scantily able to form the words

The janitor shook his head. “Sorry mate, most of the buildings on campus only have one.” Pivoting he used the blunt end of his mop to point down the hallway. “Stairs are down there.” Mop on ground he went back to work.

A full body sigh shook Gabriel as he hurried down toward the corridor. Hiking up his briefcase, he made it to the first landing before a sharp whistling sounded from his lungs. Gabriel leaned exhausted against the wall once again praying his rescue inhaler could get him to the fourth floor. Another flight, another rest on the landing repeated, each step felt heavier than the last, until his body collapsed on the last one. A stitching burn engulfed his chest, but he’d made it. Sadly he couldn’t move, his lungs not able to bring in enough air to recover. Tears began to sting the corners of his eyes; his first class he’d be late for.

“Professor Herondale?”

Gabriel weakly looked up, a young woman with crystal blue eyes and long red hair looked down at him. “Are you alright?” She asked holding out her hand.

Grabbing onto it, Gabriel pulled himself up supporting his weakened body with the hand rail. “Yes…bit out…of…breath…” He wheezed hard placing a hand against his chest. “Excuse me…I shan’t…be…late…on…” The words trailed off, Gabriel prayed his feet would move.

“Oh you didn’t get the email?” The young woman raised her eyebrows confused.

“Em…ail?” Gabriel didn’t know he had one. However, her confusion gave him another chance to use his inhaler, the mist calming his inflamed lungs. “No…I…” He cleared his throat. “Didn’t.”

“Oh! Well…I’m Giselle York, your TA. The time was moved to 10:30 instead of 10. So you have time.” A perky smile brightened her face.

A wave of relief surged through Gabriel, but he was only able to force a smile followed by a weak. “Thank you.” Giselle told Gabriel she’d bring him some water.

Gabriel found a nearby chair slumping down onto the plastic frame. His head ached along with his chest. Removing a handkerchief from the coat pocket, he mopped the beaded sweat from his brow. You’re not late, Gabe. You’re not late…