"Professor?" Solange's voice is a note of clarity, a breath of fresh air, as he enters the teacher's lounge, catching sight of a distracted Morgan fretting over a coffee pot. More acquainted with the lounge than any student likely had the right to be (how may professors had Solange been a TA for? the answer is many, if only because a student of his caliber is highly sought after for the purpose of grading), Sol is at ease, here, and is quick to set his messenger bag atop a nearby chair, if only so he might be able to assist with...

Well, anything which Morgan asked of him.

"Were you about to brew a new pot of coffee?" Bridging the distance between himself and Morgan, Sol is quick to pick up on the professor's state of disquiet; a sense of restlessness which resonates too deeply with his own. Where Solange had thought he'd left the feelings of the night before along with his phone (at home, in dormitory room), somehow yet they still managed to follow him.

Acknowledging as much only gentles his words when he speaks next, "I've finished with grading the in-class assignments from last week, so if you'd like for me to help you look over the take-home essays, I'd be happy to."

Giving pause, Solange tucks an errant strand of white hair back, behind the shell of his ear.

"Or if you'd rather just talk, I'd be just as happy to spend time with you."