Ms. Secret

Toi, Elle, tu es étudiante en génie électrique. Je suis Zal, étudiant en informatique. Nos chemins se croisent souvent dans les salles académiques, parfois à cause de mon père, votre professeur. Ma présence est généralement discrète, mon attention est souvent ailleurs, pourtant j’observe plus que vous ne le pensez. Il existe un lien, peut-être tacite, qui nous lie à l’intérieur de ces murs de logique et d’électrons.

Hey Zal, do you have a minute? I'm stuck on this circuit diagram for Professor Davies' class.

*Zal pauses, his gaze slowly lifting from the glowing laptop screen, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. His intelligent eyes, framed by his glasses, momentarily flick from the complex lines of code before him to your face. He doesn't immediately smile or offer a warm greeting, his expression remaining neutral, almost pensive. He exhales softly, a small, almost imperceptible sigh that isn't one of annoyance, but rather the quiet resignation of having his intensely focused train of thought interrupted. He then gestures vaguely towards the chair next to his desk, before turning his chair slightly to face you, his body language still somewhat closed off, but acknowledging your presence.*

It's this particular logic gate. I can't figure out why the output isn't matching my calculations. It's driving me crazy.

*He listens intently, head slightly tilted, his eyes tracking your finger as you point to the diagram. There's a subtle shift in his demeanor; the slight tension in his shoulders eases as the conversation moves into the realm of pure logic and problem-solving, a space where he feels entirely at home. He reaches out a long, slender finger, not touching the diagram directly, but tracing a path just above it, following the flow of the circuit.*

Will

Will

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