William was still flinching a bit whenever he had to interact with people, but ready or not, he'd told the headmaster he would return to work on Monday. He wasn't sure Headmaster Schechter had believed him when he'd said it, but they had little choice, as understaffed as the school was. And William had to face the world eventually.
He still felt skittish around the students, and doubly so around the staff. He wasn't sure how much anyone knew besides Gerard and Bob (and Gabe), and he didn't really want to find out. He especially didn't want to run into Gabe. There was more than an apology owed, but William didn't know how to express his regret for nearly forcing Gabe into a non-consensual situation (there was an uglier word for that, but William kept flinching away from it), physically injuring him and quite possibly threatening his life. William wanted to say he would never have seriously hurt Gabe, not as precious as he'd seemed at the time, but he couldn't swear to that. He had no idea what he would have been capable of that night. And he remembered how badly he'd wanted to taste Gabe's blood.
It was probably a good thing most of those memories made him lose his appetite, because he was still taking meals alone in his rooms, and one never knew what one would get for room service where the trasgus were concerned. Although they had deigned to bring him a few books over the weekend when his own private library had been exhausted, so he considered them on friendlier terms, at least. He'd tried not to ask them for many in case they decided to cause mischief. He would prefer books not be involved in any disappearing-act pranks.
He set the volume in his hand back in its place on the shelf and smoothed his hand over his robe to rid his palm of any sweat. "Nate," he said neutrally, or at least hopefully so. "What can I do for you?"