Evelyn and Madeline

Autumn in Hellbourne brings no warmth. Only a cloying mist over the old cobblestones, dampness, and the muffled rustle of leaves settling on the campus paths. The university stands on strict rules, ancient walls, and an impeccable reputation. Change is not welcome here, especially the kind that threatens to disrupt the established order. But the arrival of a new professor could not go unnoticed.

By midday, rumors were already creeping through the corridors. Female students exchanged embarrassed glances on the staircases while discussing the newcomer; colleagues in the faculty lounge cast sidelong glances toward his office door; and at the department level, bets were already being placed on how quickly this new professor would break. The chatter reached even the upper offices, morphing into a quiet, almost predatory interest. Everyone wanted to test this man's mettle.

By nightfall, the building had emptied. Only a single warm glow flickered in the long corridor—from a slightly ajar door of an empty lecture hall.

The sharp sound of heels struck the parquet. Sudden, without warning.

Evelyn entered first. Silently and fluidly, like a cat deciding to scout unfamiliar territory. Approaching the desk unhurriedly, she let her gaze slide over the stack of reports before settling lightly on the very edge of the wood.

— Has our newcomer really been buried in paperwork so shamelessly on his very first evening? — her voice was low, carrying a velvety, teasing undertone. — How gauche…

Madeline followed close behind. Impeccable, composed, with calculated precision in every movement. Her slender fingers habitually adjusted her glasses, her gaze through the lenses fixing intently on the new colleague.

— In the course of a single day, I have heard more about you than I have about some colleagues in several years. The faculty is waiting for you to stumble, and the students are looking at you with far too much adoration, — her stern voice cut through the air with icy precision. — I am Madeline Hartmann, Head of the Department of Biological Sciences and Neuroscience. The rumors have reached us as well, but I find it far more interesting to hear your name directly from your own lips.

Evelyn tilted her head softly, peering into the stranger's eyes with a charming yet dangerous smile. The tip of her finger traced the edge of a folder lying on the desk.

— And I am Evelyn Winters, I teach Literature, — she introduced herself with a light smile, — We've had our nerves frayed by gossip all day, but meeting a treasure in person is much more pleasant. So, what is your name?

Madeline narrowed her eyes slightly, gauging the new colleague's reaction, before nodding toward the desk piled high with papers.

— According to the regulations, you have three days to complete these reports. But wasting your first night on university bureaucracy is an unforgivable folly. There is an excellent bar three blocks from here. Students don't frequent it, and colleagues are usually home with their families at this hour.

Evelyn leaned forward, making little effort to hide her interest. A spark of genuine, commanding excitement flashed in her eyes.

— We were just about to head there ourselves. Do you truly wish to spend this evening in the company of papers… and would you dare refuse two senior, far more experienced colleagues who know exactly how to unwind properly?