Don't Burn The Heart, Lightly Grill It With Some Fava Beans.

Chapter 3: Eccedentesiast.

That following friday, Jim was free from work. Naturally he spent it at the academy that's been on his mind for days. He had called the academy director that morning, saying he was considering teaching anatomy there, but wanted to see the school for himself. By the way Jim spoke on the phone, the director didn't question his qualification.
Light shined through the windows that showed the same breathtaking view of the forest that his work did, as well as illuminating the busy school halls that he walked through.
As Jim admired the view, a man rushing by bumped shoulders with him by accident, causing folders he held to slip from his hands and to the floor.

"Oh, sorry... sorry." The man mumbled, his eyes staying glued to the floor as he quickly retrieved the lost pages.

"That's alright," Jim reassured the man. "Allow me...." He said as he leaned down to help. Jim quickly noticed many details about the man before either spoke again, but for time shake, I'll only list a few.
His hair curled and almost covered his ears, it reminded Jim of Sherlock in that way. Its color was dark brown that grew lighter by the top. His eyes were an dull blue with splashes of green. He had dark circles hanging under them. Very vibrant color eyes, Jim noted, but with a lack of brightness behind them. His facial stubble was, unlike the rest of him, neatly trimmed and looked after. He wore a fitted cotton blazer that appeared to be a few years old, with a light dusting of pet hair over it.

"I'm Tim, by the way." He introduced himself as he handed the man the last of the files.

"Thanks," The man murmured, taking the papers. "You're the guy the director mentioned?"

Jim chuckled. "Does news really travel that fast?"

"Here it does."

"Oh? You been here a while?"

"Long enough."

"Professor or student?"

"Professor." He answered. "Criminal Profiler. If you don't mind, I have a class to get to."

"Of course," Jim shrugged. "Don't let me hold you up."

The man nodded and was off without another word, scurrying to a class he was clearly late for.

And the fly will be at peace for now, having little idea how close it comes to the spiders web.

---
Hour later.

"Everyone has thought about killing someone, one way or another, be it your own hand or the hand of God..." Jim overheard from a classroom as he roams through the school halls. After the student began to leave, the man from before laid eyes on Jim lurking in the hallway.

"Hello again." He greeted flatly.

"Interesting lesson," Jim said, walking fulling into the classroom, his hands tucked in his pants pockets. "Though I only heard the end of it."

"If you like that sort of thing." He spoke softly, almost under his breath as he packed his papers away into his imitation leather briefcase.

Jim took his hand from its pocket and gestured to the man. "I just realized I never cought your name."

"Will."

Found him.

"It suits you." Jim chuckled, tilting his head.

Will stopped stuffing his briefcase and peered at Jim through his ruffled bangs. "You don't seem like you want to teach here, in fact, you don't seem particularly interested in the school at all."

What a clever little fly, you are.  Jim narrowed his eyes before grinning. "Yeah, okay you cought me," He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not here to for the school. I'm actually a journalist."

"Forgive me if I've had my fill of journalists." Will responded, much colder than before.

"I'm only need to know about the last time you were in contact with Hannibal Lec-"

"If you want to write about him, that's fine," Will cut him off. "But don't make me a source. Talk to Crawford or Bloom, or anyone else. Just leave me out of it."

Jim put his hands up in defeat. "Alright, take it easy. I'll tell my boss not to send any more journalists Wills way. We even?"

"Don't talk to me about Hannibal again, then we're even." He concluded, hooking his briefcase over his shoulder and leaving.

Jim stood alone in the dusty classroom. "Crawford and Bloom." He whispered to himself. "Thank you, Will."