“Kris, what are you doing?" You scowled. "Are you even paying attention?"

“I…” He hesitated, clearly fumbling for an excuse. You wanted to roll your eyes at how obvious he was being, but you knew it wouldn’t help the situation. Instead, you just sighed. You had hoped that after putting in your best efforts into him, Kris would change but it felt as if he was refusing to do the same. No matter how hard you’d tried, his grades had shown little improvement.

You followed his line of sight to the book in front of him, the one he was supposed to be using to take notes, and quickly snatched it away. Ignoring his protests, you flipped through it quickly, disappointed to see that every single page was covered in an illegible mess. You opened the book at random and recognised a few formulas you had gone over with him, but everything had been written over in his cramped handwriting.  

“What,” you said icily, “is this?” You punctuated your question by slamming the book onto the desk, glaring furiously. You took your job very seriously, and no feelings, friendly or otherwise, ever got in the way of your teaching.

“Just some doodles,” Kris mumbled, avoiding your gaze. You refrained from letting your satisfaction at that show on your face – even though he was much, much taller than you, you held all the power. You shot another glare at him before turning your attention to the book, trying to decipher what he had scrawled. It was a strange mix of Korean, English and Chinese, but you weren’t very familiar with the latter two languages, save for what you learned in class.

The margins were suffering the worst, and you tried to work your way through them, only understanding a few words and phrases here and there. It looked like he had scribbled over everything several times, and as a result, the majority of his book was impossible to read. Still, you managed to get the gist of why he was so inattentive in your lessons.

You cleared your throat, drawing Kris’s attention to you, and gave him a bland smile, masking what you really felt. “So who is she, Kris?”

He flinched, almost imperceptibly, but you were watching him closely; the stuttering in his words was also something of a giveaway. “I-who-what are you talking about?”

“The girl you like,” you clarified. “Who is she?”

You watched him squirm underneath your serious gaze. “Why do you want to know?” Kris glared back for a brief second before snatching the paper back, crumpling it into a ball and shoving it away.

“Your obsession with her is distracting you from your lessons,” you said sternly. No, I don’t care who she is, you told yourself. Nope. Not at all. “Maybe once you get it out of your system, you’ll be able to concentrate.”

Kris spluttered indignantly for a few moments. “What is this, a therapy session?”

“No, it’s a tutoring session,” you snapped. “But you’re not behaving like a proper student, so you will tell me who she is, or I’ll report you to the teacher.”

You smiled thinly, making sure he knew exactly how serious you were. “I’ll pay attention from now on, I swear–”

“Tell me who she is.”

“I-She’s in my class,” he stammered, still not meeting your eyes.

You tucked the information away. “We’re in the same class,” you observed, quickly running through a list of names in your mind.

The implication wasn’t lost on him. “I’m not going to tell you who she is,” Kris said coolly. 

“But you can still tell me about her,” you said amiably. “Besides, I have nothing to gain from knowing this. Do I look like the gossiping type?”

You were almost hurt by his hesitation. “No, you look more like the blackmailing type.”

“Thanks,” you said dryly. “Now spill.”

“I…I really like her, but…” Kris snorted. “She intimidates me a little. Not just because she’s beautiful, or talented, or smart, but I don’t think she likes me very much.”

You nodded thoughtfully, still processing his words. You had several candidates in mind about who he liked, but they were all openly affectionate towards Kris (some more than others). But before you could comment, Kris interrupted. “Look, let’s get back to work.”

“You just don’t want me figuring who she is,” you complained, but turned your attention back to his books anyway. 

“See, this is what happens when you actually pay attention,” you told him loftily, before rattling of a list of instructions for his homework. “Have that finished by next week, and if you have any questions, just ask.”

Kris nodded obediently. “Thanks.” He began dumping his books into his bag, and the sharp crunch of crumpled paper made you wince. Several sheets made their escape, and you picked a few up, amused to see them covered in the same scribbles as before.

“Did you do this to all your books?” you asked, giving it a second, incredulous glance. “Honestly, you are really–”

You stopped abruptly, your mouth suddenly dry as you stared disbelievingly at the paper. Like before, you could read the scribbles that were less messy than the others, but only one thing caught your eye – your name.

“I-She’s in my class.”

“We’re in the same class.”

And then–

“She intimidates me a little.”

More memories came to mind – namely, days when you had scolded Kris during tutoring for not paying attention, or for not finishing his homework; tutoring sessions filled with sharp glares and harsh words, and through it all, Kris, sitting there quietly, not meeting your eyes.

Your fingers tightened. No one else in the class shared your name, you remembered. “Is–”

Kris followed your line of sight – you thought you heard him swear under his breath – and then he plucked the scrap of paper from your hands, crumpling it as he clenched his fists. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, almost glaring at the paper in his hands.

You didn’t say anything, just stared up at him disbelievingly.

He cleared his throat, seemingly unnerved by your silence. “I’m sorry,” he said again, and the words seemed to flow easier this time. “I’ll get another tutor, and–”

“Kris,” you said softly, still a little stunned. “You should. Get another tutor, I mean.”

The shock in his eyes told you he was clearly hoping that you would accept his strange confession; his mouth tightened and his gaze fell to the floor again. “I’m sorry–”

“I wasn’t finished,” you said, using the same icy tone you used when reprimanding him. “You should probably get another tutor…” You took a deep breath. “…because I don’t think the teacher would approve if I started dating one of my students.”

You took a small, cautious step towards him. “Kris,” you murmured, delighting in the sound of his name, “I like you as well.” You blushed and looked away, too shy to meet his gaze. Is this why he doesn’t meet my eyes?

Kris lifted a hand and brushed it against your cheek gently, sending shivers down your spine. His fingers trailed up your face, barely touching your skin but you were acutely aware of it. You felt yourself almost leaning into his touch but he tucked your hair behind your ear smoothly, lingering on your neck before his hand dropped.

You looked up timidly, and you felt your heart race when you saw the look on his face – longing, affection and tenderness, all for you. You swallowed nervously. “Um…”

He laughed at that, and you blushed even more. You had no idea what to do now, since no confessions you’d heard had ever gone something like yours. The awkwardness was so different to the brisk, business-like atmosphere you’d kept in your tutoring sessions, and you rarely interacted with him in class either–

Kris interrupted your thoughts, his lips shaping the two syllables of your name, his voice caressing it like a warm embrace. “I know you already know,” he admitted, “but I want you to hear it properly.”

“Okay,” you said intelligently.

He laughed even harder this time, but when he took both your hands in his, his expression was serious. “I really, really like you,” he confessed, his deep voice making your stomach flutter. “Would you do me the honour of going on a date with me?”

Looking up at his face - angular and almost stern, if it wasn’t for the hopeful look - you felt your hands tighten around his and your heart flutter nervously. And you stared straight into his dark eyes and smiled once more. “I would love to, Kris.”