Addermire Institute (Semi-Advanced) discussion

taught by hyeon

It was about two ish when Foster peeked into the mostly empty classroom, aside from Denali and Taryn, along with a few other students he'd never seen before. They were probably finishing up homework or studying so he figured it wasn't a bad time. He was holding two plastic bins with lunch he'd made. He figured Hyeon would like meat - so he cooked a steak rare, with his own being quite well done. With fries on the side and a small salad.

He approached, setting the food down on an empty counter space and smiling, "I hope you're hungry" his voice was quiet, so as to not disturb the students.

Hyeon looked up briefly upon hearing the noise at the door. He sighed. Clearly, Foster wasn't going to give up so easily. "I'm busy. I have assignments to mark, and these kids need peace and quiet to study." His room was a common place to go if students needed to study in peace, because he was usually always in there and more than willing to throw out noisy students. "'I'll eat later." He turned away, glancing up at the students to see if any of them were paying attention, but they were all deep in study. "Just go, before you disturb them." Hyeon returned to marking the essay he was currently looking at, silent save for the occasional mutter of 'what the hell are they saying' or similar. He scribbled down an asterisk beside the student's name on the roll, then moved on to the next.

Foster watched, standing there with an even smile and blinking a few times over, "uhm, no." he said simply, his tone friendly despite the rebellious statement. He pushed the food forward, "You're going to eat as you grade. It's not a messy meal sir, I could even cut the steak up for you into little pieces, if that's what you'd like. But you're going to let me help you" he spoke stubbornly, quietly though. The students were pretty high up on the benches, he doubted he'd be disturbing them.

Hyeon shook his head. "I'll eat later," he repeated, frustrated. "You're ruining my focus." He started reading the next essay, but at Foster's comment he stopped and looked up again. "I don't need to eat right now, and if you're going to be condescending then you can leave." He sighed, and returned to struggling understand what the student who'd written this was trying to communicate. Hyeon was, for the first time in a while, severely questioning his students' writing ability. "What the hell are you even arguing," he mumbled, scribbling down a fluent, but what's your point? in the margin.

Foster folded his arms, "No." he said again, "You're not taking care of yourself. And I refuse to stand for that. So, you'll eat. Even better, if you eat, I'll leave you be. I'll step out of the classroom and go about my day. You can't spare five minutes to at least try a little bit?" he questioned, still persisting. He was a stubborn man.

Hyeon pointed wordlessly at the stack of essays beside him, then returned to mumbling in frustration at the essay. Once it was finished, he looked up again. "I've eaten something today, it's fine. I'll eat when these kids go to class." Most of them didn't have class for another hour or two, but Foster didn't know that. Lunch break was nearly over, so hopefully he'd assume that Hyeon would eat soon and thus leave him alone.

Foster went quiet before suddenly sitting down across from Hyeon and taking an essay from the pile, flipping through it. He knew plenty about literature. "You know, you could have eaten in the time it took to argue against eating. Don't you perhaps think there's something wrong if you're adamant about not taking care of yourself? Don't you think that's a problem?" he asked, quickly marking a few grammatical errors with a blue pen.

Hyeon deftly pulled the essay away from Foster and put it back on the pile. "Don't touch." He ignored the questions, dropping his head further to focus on what he was reading. Why do you refuse to take care of yourself? The question was familiar, and not in a good way. It had been centuries since he'd last heard anyone say that, and the words hit home painfully. Memories he'd pushed down, memories he'd avoided remembering, fragments of older thoughts that he'd forgotten a long time ago – all these drifted back with those words. Unable to focus, he turned away in frustration – not daring to slam his pen down, he didn't want to draw attention to it. "Just go away."

Foster blinked at Hyeon and furrowed his brows faintly, "... I'm leaving this food with you. You should eat" he stepped back and sighed, glancing up at the students studying and making eye contact with Denali, who was narrowing her eyes down at him. He felt a bit uncomfortable, turning towards the door and walking out without another word.

<< we can do a timeskip?
cause i was thinking this becomes a daily occurrence, with Foster bringing Hyeon food and all >>

Hyeon ignored him, returning to marking the paper. He might come back to the food in a few hours, if he wasn't working. He felt vaguely guilty that Foster had given up, but thinking about that brought back the memories — so he returned to working. (A few hours later, once the last of the students had left, he did eat, before returning to marking papers — where he remained for most of the night.)

— skip —

When Hyeon woke the next morning, he was still sitting at his desk. Probably not the smartest idea, all things considered, but he'd gotten good at finding positions that didn't harm his back. He couldn't recall when he'd fallen asleep, but he suspected he'd gotten several hours of sleep judging by the lack of fatigue. He raised his head slowly and winced immediately. The windows had no curtains or blinds, and the dawn sun was hitting him right in the face — one of the only reasons he ever slept in his own bed, since his apartment had blinds that kept out most of the light during the day.

how would foster react to hyeon sleeping in the classroom

Foster stopped by Hyeon's apartment in the morning - but upon finding it empty he rather bitterly made his way to Hyeon's classroom once more, holding breakfast in his hands, his bag slung over his shoulder His first hour was a planning period so he wasn't exactly in a hurry. He taught a lot of night classes too.

Seeing Hyeon sleeping in the classroom stirred something within him, he stood there in front of the desk, brows furrowed as he slowly set the food down, opening the lid and sliding the thermos down next to it - one he'd taken from Hyeon's fridge before he'd left. "You're an incredibly unhealthy person, Hyeon" Foster spoke after several moments of silence, folding his arms over his chest.

Hyeon blinked in the sudden shade. "Don't move, you're in the perfect spot to block the sun," he said, yawning. "And I'm really not that bad, I got a decent amount of sleep." He reached for the food, ignoring the thermos – he probably did need some, but he'd rather put it off for as long as possible. "Thanks," he added. "For this, and for yesterday. And for the record, I did eat it."

Foster was scowling when he first came in but as Hyeon spoke his expression softened. He smiled faintly, still remaining where he stood and glancing at the papers that the man had been working on. "... Of course" he replied simply. "Though you should perhaps consider sleeping in a bed next time? Just a suggestion" he added, raising his brow and tilting his head in a rather snarky fashion.

Hyeon sighed and shook his head. "Surprisingly enough, sleeping in a chair's not that uncomfortable. So long as my back's straight. And it's less effort than walking all the way to my apartment." He pushed the thermos away, then pulled a stack of exams from one of the desk drawers and a pile of essays from another. The exams were to hand back to the next class, and he needed to check over them and make sure everything added up – but the essays were completely unmarked. "I really need to get blinds for this room," he mumbled, wincing as he moved his chair slightly and the light hit his eyes again.

psst

Foster turned and approached the windows, nodding in agreement, "Blinds would be nice" he replied. Even he thought the sun was a bit... much. He glanced back at Hyeon, shaking his head, "But again, I urge you to sleep at home at least some of the time" he stressed, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"I sleep at home occasionally," Hyeon retorted. "But my schedule is a mess, so it's hard to find the time." Possibly that was his own fault, for letting them timetable his classes such that there was less than a five-hour gap between most of them. He never really slept much, though, even before he became a vampire. "And I'm probably semi-insomniac or something," he added. He stared at the paper in front of him, thinking. Foster was so stubbornly taking care of him – but why? Why was he so invested in Hyeon's wellbeing? And how much longer would it last? He didn't realise that his fangs had slipped out – as they tended to do during times of high emotion or confusion.

Foster glanced back at him, raising his brows and folding his arms, "Mmm." he didn't reply, turning back to the window and running his fingers along the sill, taking something out of his pocket and setting it down onto the base of the pane, "Do you have any water?" he asked suddenly.

Hyeon nodded, pulling a bottle from under his desk – although he was fairly sure the water inside was several days old, it was probably still drinkable. "Why?" he asked, only vaguely curious. He yawned again – clearly several hours of sleep wasn't enough to fix is fatigue – and raised his hand to cover his mouth, then winced as it scraped against his fangs. "Oh, bloody hell," he mumbled, reaching for the thermos. "Can't the stupid damn things just let me live." He made a face at the scent of blood that became apparent after he took the lid off, not quite motivated enough to actually drink it.

Foster approached and retrieved the bottle, furrowing his brows, "... Have you considered wearing gloves? This seems like it's a recurring problem with you" he pointed out before turning back to the sill and drizzling water over the seed. His eyes began to glow, an ivy springing out and climbing over the window, dimming the light in the room significantly. Not enough to be bothersome, but not enough to leave them in blinding daylight. "Mmm. There" he smiled proudly.

Hyeon shrugged. "There's probably someone out there who knows how all this works, but I manage well enough." He didn't, not really, but given that he'd never had anyone to explain it to him he would argue he'd done quite well to survive this long. As the ivy grew over the window, dimming the light, Hyeon sighed with relief. "Thanks."

He stood back, grinning at his work and glancing back, eyebrows raising at the little bit of appreciation. It felt nice. "No problem" he nodded once, glancing over the empty desks, "So you don't know how you work? You as in... you know... you" he asked, tilting his head quizzically.

"I mean, I've figured out stuff through trial and error – how long I can go without feeding or eating, don't walk outside in the middle of the day, basic stuff. But control, other abilities? No idea." Staring at the thermos beside him, Hyeon sighed and buried his face in his arms. "I hate blood." Maybe there was some secret way of making it taste good that he didn't know about, but he suspected that most vampires just had weird tastebuds to start with.

Foster thought for a moment, approaching and picking up the thermos, eyeing the liquid within. "Aren't there other means to replenish your energy?" he asked. He knew vampires were distantly related to demons, and demons replenished in several different ways.

Hyeon glanced up at him. "I'd never thought of that. I don't know. It's probably the most effective, though – I mean, legends always come from somewhere." He sighed and took the container back, staring at the contents for a few seconds, then raised it to his lips and downed as much as he could without gagging – about a single mouthful. "It just tastes like mucus and iron. Disgusting, but could be worse, could taste like squash."

A snort escaped his lips and he giggled to himself for a moment. He'd never been a squash kind of guy himself. He leaned against the wall, staring at Hyeon silently for a few moments and furrowing his brows as his thoughts urged him forward. But he remained where he stood, confused, balling his hands into fists and maybe a little too casually stuffing them into his pockets. "... Surely there has to be a better way" he murmured.

There were a million different things Hyeon could have done to try to make his life easier. He could have actually looked for a vampire who knew something about how their species worked, he could have tried to find the one who turned him – hell, he could even have just read a book about the damn things and compared its accuracy with real life. But he'd never wanted to understand this, and all his life he'd done the best he could to avoid even thinking about what he was. "I don't know anyone I could ask, but there might be someone in the city." He didn't have time to search, what with classes and all, but he could ask someone else to do it for him if he had to.

Frankly it didn't make sense at all to Foster. He'd been searching his whole life for some semblance of self, struggling to understand what exactly he was - as nymphs weren't exactly commonplace where he came from. Not to mention he was a dark nymph. And yet Hyeon had been alive for ages and hardly knew a thing about himself. He wondered.... "Do you ... dislike what you are, Hyeon?" he asked carefully, fiddling with his collar.

Hyeon looked down at the paper before him. "I did. My turning was the vampire equivalent of a hit and run–" he smiled, wryly, "– and whoever it was never bothered to come back to help me. I hated what I was because it alienated me from my family – although it didn't, really, only death stopped my sister from pestering me – and because I didn't understand it." He heaved a sigh. "I still do, I guess – but I've been around so long I don't even know how long it's been, and it's around the thousand-year mark that the hatred starts getting tired. There's only so long anyone can remain stubborn for." He picked up his pen and continued marking. The next class wouldn't be getting their exams back today, judging by the pile he had to get through.

Foster stared at Hyeon and tilted his head. Slowly he approached, sitting down in front of him, "... I see" he murmured, his expression unreadable. "... Do you need help? With the assignments?" he asked. Sure he had his own class, but he also had an assistant training to be a teacher, she did a lot of the prepping for him this year.

Hyeon didn't bother to look up. "Nah, it's fine. They can just wait to get their exams back, it won't kill them." Given that they'd only done it a few days ago, it wouldn't be entirely unreasonable for them to wait a little longer to get it back. Though now that the deep conversation was over, he could focus more. "How many ways can you misspell one name," he mumbled exasperatedly, scribbling down a note on the roll to check if that kid had reading problems. It wouldn't be the first time people had assumed that a kid was just a bad speller and they turned out to be dyslexic. But it also wouldn't be the first time that someone was just a really bad speller. And quite a few of the kids weren't writing in their first language, too.

Though Hyeon was still closed off and distant - perhaps a bit cold, Foster felt as though he were making real progress with this. Though as he spent more time getting closer to the man he was beginning to wonder what exactly he was making progress towards. Something felt wrong about this. "Well... I'll be coming by with lunch later, so you better be prepared to eat" he smiled genuinely.

"Thanks for the food." Hyeon felt like he should say something more, but he didn't know what. He figured it was better to keep silent than to say something that made things awkward. He slid the exam to one side and began checking through the next, marking spelling errors he'd missed the first time.

time skip?

The afternoon was slower to approach than Foster would have liked. It felt like time wouldn't just get a move on - and he wasn't sure why it bothered him so much. It wasn't like he wouldn't see Hyeon. He couldn't help but grow attached though -- to new things in his schedule of course! Not Hyeon or anything. He made his way down the steps with two plastic bins in hand, glancing at the students that'd stayed behind. It was the same four or five of them that'd been here yesterday. Hm. He sat the food on the desk silently, opening Hyeon's and setting a fork beside it.

Hyeon looked up upon hearing Foster enter the room and stood, scraping a piece of chalk down the board behind him. "Alright, kids, off you go. It's basically lunch time, go socialise. You need a break from studying." So sure, maybe his motives were mostly wanting to talk to Foster, but they didn't need to know that. He glared at the student who looked suspiciously like they were implying something he didn't want them to imply, and pulled a seat over towards the desk. "You didn't have to go to this much effort, you know," he said.

Foster sat down and leaned against his arm, resting chin on his hand and smiling as he stared at Hyeon for a moment, silent and contemplative. His brows raised and he smirked, shrugging, "I don't have to - but I do. Because I want to" he replied, taking his own food and poking at it with a fork. He'd gone with the steak again, only his own was quite well done. The blood made him feel weird.

He was impressed though, that Hyeon had made time for this lunch. It was progress - he decided. It was at least better than watching the man bury himself in papers and waste away. As he studied the situation he couldn't help but wonder if... perhaps this was a date. He didn't speak up though, quickly looking away.

Hyeon stared down at the food, thinking — probably too much, but that was what he did best. "But why? Why bother when you don't even know if I'll actually care? It's not as though you're getting paid to do it, and you don't exactly get much out of it." He felt awkward, like a burden, and no matter how much he knew that Foster could simply not bother if it was a problem he couldn't help but feel as though the other pitied him and felt that he had to do this.

Foster tilted his head quizzically and shook his head as he ate, chuckling, "You're funny." he explained simply, thinking for a few moments, "You can be right sour, but I figure that's because you just haven't had anyone take care of you in a long time." He continued.