A subtle frown tugged at the edge of Gus’ lips; he would be the one to spend more time in his office than his private quarters, but it begged the question why he had all the essays here. Maybe he just needed a change of scenery – that was something he understood well. It wasn’t a need for change (sure when he ran, he uprooted his entire life to do so), but more a place to think without the disruptions and reminders of normal life. That's what normal people did when they needed to stop and think. Gus felt like he had to be in professor mode when he was in the classroom and his office, but in his private quarters he could wallow in self doubt and pity if this was the career choice for him. (It wasn't, but hey, he was still coming to terms with that.) He closed his eyes and let out a sigh; that wasn’t a thread he felt like pulling at the moment.

Instead Gus hummed quietly in response. “I don’t like my office. Or my classroom” it said, although he wasn’t sure Basil would get that from it. He buried his face further into the scarf and let out a sigh of contentment, happy to finally have it back – it’d been with him for so many years that it had been difficult to sleep without it. (Or rather, it had been difficult to sleep while knowing that Basil Foxwood wasn’t in his life anymore and he’d have to live with the broken pieces of himself for the reminder of his life, but it was much easier to explain to himself that he missed his security blanket.)

Here, curled next to Basil in his bed, Gus felt safe. The events that had led him here were in the back of his mind, but even if he mulled over them and let them take over, the other would be there to pull him back from the edge. He didn’t have to hide parts of himself or fake a smile simply because people expected it from him – Gus could be fully himself without judgment with Basil. His chest warmed at the thought but he couldn’t find the right words to voice it. His life had shifted into place, a puzzle piece finding its match, even if the entire puzzle wouldn’t ever be complete again; it was as close to perfect as it could get, and for now, Gus was okay with that.

He felt a hand touching his cheek and he leaned his head against his hand. Basil’s fingers were cold just as they always were, but they felt good against his skin. His own hand came up to rest atop Basil's. “Okay.” He agreed quietly, a small, subtle pang of happiness fluttering in his stomach from not being asked to vacate the bed so he could grade in peace. Food wasn’t appealing to him (at least right now), but even in the future he wasn’t sure he could stomach anything, but he’d try.

Gus stretched his legs out, prodding his toes against Basil before he pulled his hands back to touch under the scarf before he dropped his head against it and closed his eyes; he felt the emotional and physical drain today had had on him all at once and darkness was already tugging him into its grasp. So he fell into its welcoming embrace.

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