I take a second to stop before I ring the doorbell, allowing myself a deep breath, and shake my arms out. It has been a fair while since I last visited Baekhyun's mansion,  if trampling into his personal driver's car, dragging an overly-drunk teenage boy behind me and waking up in his bed the next day even counts as a visit.

My skin starts to grow hot at the memory and I curse myself for the reminder. I was supposed to calm down, not start to blush like crazy.

After the doors click open, I step into the familiar white corridor, glancing around for Ji. As the minutes tick by, no high heels descend down the staircase and no lady dressed in elegance appears in the doorway. Maybe I am expected to take myself to the tutor room.

Having taken a few weeks break from passing these rooms, the silence makes me all the more nervous to rely on my memory. Red desk here, gold chair with diamond clippings there. God help me if I ever get lost in this house.

I almost let out a cry of joy as I spot the rounded glass table and the four white chairs neatly tucked in. Then I realise one of these chairs isn't tucked in and is occupied by Baekhyun. He is dressed in his usual shirt and jeans, arms folded across his chest, body slumped in the chair. I couldn't stop the tch of disapproval at his lazy posture. Baekhyun's gaze lands on me as I enter the room.

"You're late," he grumbles, all signs of attraction disappearing down the drain.

"I know," I shoot back. "I was being careful on my way in."

His eyes follow me as I drop into the seat opposite him and splay out the work. Despite forgetting my lip balm and bus ticket this morning, I had not forgotten to ban wearing shorts to the lessons. Today reads a moderate temperature, allowing me my beige jeans and simple white blouse.

"Did you steal something?" Baekhyun asks, making me nearly choke on air.

"What?" I splutter.

"Do you usually make people wait forty-five minutes?"

His voice has never been so irritating. I hope the textbooks are hiding my clenching and unclenching fists under the table.

"I missed the bus," I try my best to reply in a calm manner. It is true that my tardiness took up almost half the lesson, but I really could do without the demanding nature of this boy. I am already vexed enough as it is. Plus, I haven't made a start on the lesson yet and I am already burning out.

Always stay calm. No, I must not relieve my displeasure in the presence of others.

Baekhyun stares at me, his bottom lip tucked in as if he is expecting something. I gulp, wondering if he is thinking along the same lines I am. I let out a relenting sigh through my teeth. "Look, I'm sorry I'm late." God, it feels ridiculous to apologise to the school's playboy. "If you'd like, I can stay back and finish-"

"No thanks," Baekhyun interrupts me with a wave of his hand, probably trying to distract me. I don't miss his uncomfortable expression, however. "Just, do a crash course, or something."

I decide against trying to pinpoint what exactly switched off Baekhyun's nonchalant mode in my previous sentence. Instead, I flip open two textbooks.

"We should try and work at a speedy pace from now on," I say in what I hope is my confident voice. I may or may not have rehearsed this several times last night. "I would be aiming triple, if not twice the amount we covered in our previous lessons. Compensation for missing out all these weeks."

Baekhyun grumbles in agreement, but keeps his attention focused on the paper I've shoved across to him.

I pause and wet my lips, my nerves building to a . "I think it would be best to spend more time on this. Arrange a second day, or I can stay longer on Saturdays, though I think that could be an overload for you, and we'll only have to do this twice or so if you agree, since that's all the time we get before the exams-"

"We'll see how today goes," Baekhyun interrupts me again, his brown eyes searing into mine, before he puts his pen to paper.

I stare at him, stunned, wondering how he is able to snatch dominance away from me like that. It leaves me hollow. I thought I had a hidden authority in these two hours, being his tutor, and maybe it is the fact I gave him the choice to choose. It was indeed, hardly my place to demand and organise extra sessions, but I guess I wanted to relish in my short capacity of power.

And how he just dismissed me like that. Even though I know I shouldn't think of it as such as a big deal, I can't swallow my upgraded frustration. Attitude, power, embarrassment. He just keeps winning.

"How do you find the stationary point?" Baekhyun's voice breaks through my thoughts. He's gnawing at the end of his pen and drums his fingers at the side of the paper, eyes locked onto the questions.

I sit up straighter for a better view. Knowing that if he continued his careless attitude in our tutor sessions, we would cover little ground, particularly dangerous at a time so close to the final exams. I only need to kick him up to the 80% benchmark. But considering all the content I've gone through with him so far, he'd be lucky to have reached 60%. And that's only if he concentrates during the tests.

Perhaps the possibility of spending more time on tutoring spurs Baekhyun to solely focus on the work, for he asks nothing but genuine maths questions and refrains from making snide remarks when I have difficulty writing upside down.

Midday passes by in a flash, and I don't think Baekhyun even realises we've gone over-time. Seeing as he is close to completing a question, I allow an extra ten minutes, contemplating whether I should push it to another half an hour to make up for my late start, or if he would be irritated with the fifteen minutes he could have spent whatever he does in his spare time.

"So if I substitute this here, does that get me the equation?" Baekhyun looks up, confused with my silence. He raises his eyebrow in suspicion as I temporarily forget who I'm sitting opposite to and smile at him. "What?"

"It's half past 12," I reply. Truth to be told, I am quite proud to see him so immersed into the world of mathematics.

Baekhyun blinks. "It is?"

"Yes."

Fifteen minutes to make the full two hours. I can do it, we can do it, but the thought of that dissipates from my mind as I watch Baekhyun drop his pen and slowly sit back in his seat, his eyebrows no longer pinched from the maths problem. Baekhyun glances out the window, stretching his arms, seeming to contemplate on something. No signs of anger yet. Kim Taeyeon is safe for now.

His gaze cuts across to me so abruptly I freeze. Not that I was moving to start with. "What are you doing later? Are you busy?"

I try and process his words. Is Byun Baekhyun really asking me this?

"No," I manage. Could he be extending the tutor session?

"Let's go get lunch," Baekhyun announces, standing up. "Somewhere close."

He stands up and advances to the doorway, then stops and turns around, looking surprised to see me still sitting.

"Don't tell me you're not hungry."

"I-I am." Shakily, I stand up, aware of Baekhyun's gaze as I scrape the sheets together.

"Leave that," Baekhyun says. "You can come and get everything later."

So we aren't continuing, I think, and disappointment swells in my chest. That is, before I remember that Baekhyun just asked me to eat lunch with him. Or rather, he demanded.

But who said I was complaining.

I stumble towards Baekhyun as he turns around and leads the way through the multiple rooms. I am about to eat lunch with Baekhyun. My skin begins to tingle all over and I have trouble keeping my heart beating steadily.

Outside, the sun is out, giving the earth a false warmth that will soon recede to the typical chill of the evening. This time, Baekhyun walks at a slower pace than last night, falling into a leisure stroll. After contemplation, I slide into step beside him.

"How much do I owe you now?" I mutter as we exit his residence.

"What?"

"The cost of the make-up and hair from the party, the dress, the heels, and the dinner." I wince a little at that last expense.

Baekhyun says nothing for a while, and I don't dare to look up at him. "You don't need to worry about it," he finally answers.

I'm not sure whether to feel guilt for accepting his money like this. It isn't as if I am helping him with exam preparation at no cost, and I did recently accept the basketball team's help, but that isn't solely dedicated to Baekhyun's benefit. I can't think of anything else I can offer in return. Maybe I should feel angry that Baekhyun is another person who has the freedom to spend money on what he wants, when he wants. Even though I never show it, I am already envious of Tiffany as it is. I'm not sure if I am able to carry this burden of owing him money until the end of school. Perhaps I'll have enough soon, with Silkson and these tutor sessions.

I must've sighed out loud because Baekhyun makes a noise of disapproval. "I said it's fine, damn it," he growls, and I thin my lips. Well, I guess I'll have to see him to that 80%, and maybe bring him that basketball trophy, if there is one.

We hop onto a bus after a short walk from his mansion. Baekhyun does not say where we're going or what we're eating. I don't protest. A few stops later, we reach a parade of restaurants lining the edges of a broad walkway. Glimpsing through polished windows, the interiors of some of the places don't look high-class and the designs outlining the exterior of the eateries are standard tiling and bricks.

Baekhyun seems to know where he's headed, for he doesn't take a curious glance at any restaurants we pass. People mill in and out of doors, some in groups, others individually, as they enjoy the early afternoon of the Saturday's sunshine. Finally, his pace slows, and he turns into a rather small eatery, with one plain sign marking its title. Little Ivory. Baekhyun pushes the heavy door open without hesitation and a small bell rings upon our entrance.

The lack of space can only provide a couple of tables. Eight, if I count a tiny round stand that has a stool tucked underneath it lain idly against the cement wall. Potted plants hang underneath square windows, and two occupants sit at a table, leaving the rest of the place quiet with a jazz song humming somewhere in the ceiling.

Aware of our presence, the two middle-aged women glance up from their card game. Wide eyes setting on Baekhyun, they jump right out of the seats.

"Boy!" the shorter one bellows in a full voice, waddling over in her brown sandals. She grips onto Baekhyun's forearm and pulls him down for a hug. The taller one, wearing a matching frayed apron as the former woman, has pink manicured nails and colourful dyed hair scrunched up into a messy bun.

"Well, well, fancy seeing you around here, hotstuff," the taller one drawls, eyes outlined in thick black. "Where have you been?"

I'm not sure what to think of this scene. Did this forty-something looking lady just call Baekhyun 'hotstuff'? And is Baekhyun letting himself be hugged by her companion, who seems to be currently squeezing the breath out him?

"Busy," Baekhyun replies in a slightly strained voice, figure contorting against the bigger lady.

"Jiyi, you're choking him," Manicured Nails chortles, and her companion complies, releasing Baekhyun who immediately limps out of her embrace.

"Compensation for leaving us lonely for so long." Jiyi wags a stout finger at him. "Don't you do that again without warning."

Baekhyun slowly shrugs, a faint smile playing at his lips. "I'm here now, aren't I?"

"But who's this friend?" Manicured Nails' dark eyes are now on me, raking over my jeans and blouse. "Is she one of your girls?"

At this, Baekhyun stiffens, but I hardly have time to dwell on this as Jiyi's palms are encircled around my waist in a flash. "How thin she is!" Her voice is filled with fascination. "And what soft, pale skin. I've always pictured your girls as tawny, boy."

I try to step away from this intrusion, my voice failing to let out a squeal. Jiyi's embrace is definitely a labyrinth, for she's gone from clamping her hands at my waist to my wrists, and then to my shoulders. My eyes shoot to Baekhyun, no doubt sending an urgent help me. Surprisingly, Baekhyun catches my call.

"Jiyi, please get off her. She's not one of them. You're scaring her."

"Oh," Jiyi says deflated, and suddenly loses interest in me, walking around to the counter at the end of the restaurant.

I finally feel like I am able to breathe, with no more trespassing hands around my torso and pinching my skin. I try to send a thank you to Baekhyun, but his back is turned as he slides a chair out and takes a seat.

"This is Taeyeon." I freeze at his mention of my name. "She goes to my school."

"Taeyeon," Manicured Nails slurs, as if testing whether my name sounds sweet or sour.

I look from Baekhyun, to Manicured Nails, and back to Baekhyun again. He nods to the seat opposite him, and straightens his legs out from under the table.

"Anything's good," Baekhyun calls out rather loudly. It takes me a second to figure he's speaking to Jiyi, who has silently disappeared. On cue, loud crashes sound from behind the counter - the kitchen? - soon replaced by sharp chopping. Manicured Nails stays with her hip glued to the counter, eyes stuck to me.

"So what brings you here with this boy, Taeyeon?" she asks, my name never sounding so weird on her thick tongue.

"Um." I glance behind her at the wall prints, trying to minimise the amount of eye contact as her black pupils bear holes in mine. "I don't quite understand what you mean by that?"

She points a long nail at Baekhyun. "Surely you're not with him, are you? What do they call it? Jiyi, what do the youngsters call it these days?"

"A day!" Jiyi roars from the kitchen, sounds of a knife slamming on a cutting board like a machine gun.

"A day!" Manicured Nails repeats with gleaming white teeth.

"A date," Baekhyun corrects in a low voice, clearly not affected as I am.

"N-no," I hiccup, feeling heat rise in my cheeks. A date with Baekhyun? What an absurd thought.

Her eyes stray away from me, as if she didn't hear me at all. "Our boy never brings any of his friends, he always comes alone. Lonely, lonely boy."

Baekhyun puts his hands behind his head, not seeming to take any offence from Manicured Nails. In fact, if I look a little harder, I swear I see a hint of a smile playing at his lips. His eyes flicker to mine. A sliver of amusement. I look away, not wanting to give the lady any wrong ideas by staring too long.

Jiyi comes bundling out from the kitchen, balancing our lunch in her palms. "Eat up, boy." She thumps a fist on Baekhyun's back, who jolts forward in his seat but doesn't scowl or protest.

The more I stay in Baekhyun's presence out of school grounds, the more surprising he turns out to be. Jiyi gives me a light pat on the shoulder before leaving us be, offering a wink, though I can't be too sure because it honestly looks like something flew into her eye.

"Charming," I finally say as we hit the sidewalk, the two women waving energetically from inside the restaurant.

Baekhyun doesn't say anything, but the faint smile he's been wearing ever since we walked in is still there.

We return to his mansion and proceed with the tutoring session as if we didn't have that delicious but quiet lunch in between. This time round, however, Baekhyun doesn't take his former seat opposite me. His cool composure slackens along with this change but his well-known, irritable attitude starts trickling in.

"Your arms are so short," is the complaint he uses to slide into the chair adjacent to mine. It is true that I have to strain my body over the table when I am teaching him. My eyes become uncomfortable over the course of the hours. I'm not sure whether to feel relieved that I don't have to squint at the paper anymore or feel annoyed by his insult.

Instead of countering with a comeback, I calmly tap the page. "You did this one incorrectly."

Baekhyun scowls, something he hasn't done in a long while in our tutoring sessions. Frankly, I have no idea what triggers him to become the typical stubborn person again, especially since I was sure we both left that cafe in a happy mood. I am starting to think that Baekhyun has serious problems with mood swings. Perhaps just as bad as Tiffany's when she's on her menstrual cycle, and that's saying something.

The atmosphere shifts into the uncertain state, roughly familiar to our very first lesson. Being the tutor, I am unsure of how far I can push my power in these circumstances. I was starting to get used to Baekhyun's relaxed and less defensive person before he completely switched when we returned here. He is like a ticking bomb, exploding without warning.

The next hour drags out long and hard, and both our moods change. The work excruciatingly exhausts Baekhyun, reducing his mood to sharp fragments of crankiness and frustration. In response, I was at several points very close to snapping back at him, fighting silently with my inner opinions and leaving my irritation hanging in the air. Baekhyun is stubborn again, and I honestly do not want to waste my afternoon in his hostility. I can already taste my fatigue tomorrow as I exert my body at Silkson.

Baekhyun lets out another grunt as he tangles his hair in one hand. He's gripping the pen furiously in the other as he glowers at his book.

I sigh for the umpteenth time. "Staring at it won't solve it."

"I know that," he spits out, shooting a venomous look my way. "You don't have to make it so darn obvious."

I flinch at his tone, and he must have noticed for he drops his pen. Baekhyun takes a shuddering inhale then buries his face in his hands.

Definitely worse than Tiffany on her period.

I sit there idly, not sure if I should speak or stay silent. I opt for the latter choice, finding my gaze lost in Baekhyun's messy hair. The brown locks look a shade lighter and I feel the inexplicable urge to run my hand through the softness.

Suddenly, Baekhyun's head pops up, his eyes shooting to mine. My cheeks blush wildly at being caught staring.

Clearing my throat, I glance away. "Shall we call it a day? It's getting quite late."

I feel Baekhyun's eyes linger on me before he stands up. "I'll drive you home."

I throw him a pure look of shock. "You can drive?"

He returns my stare. "Why do you sound surprised?"

"Just never seen you in the driver's seat," I mutter.

Deepening today's bundle of surprises, Baekhyun actually helps me gather my texbooks and worksheets. I keep sending perplexed gazes his way, but he doesn't meet my eyes again as he wordlessly hands me my pens.

"Thanks," I repeat, half confused by this act of politeness, half cautious in choosing my words in case he blows up again.

It turns out that Baekhyun stores his own car in a garage adjacent to his chauffeur's. It's a sleek two-seater Mercedes with a low purring engine. I enter my address into his GPS, and his eyes widen at the street name.

"You live there?"

"What?" I ask defensively. My neighbourhood is quiet and average, unlike his posh and prestigous streets. It's a wonder that Baekhyun even recognises my street.

Baekhyun looks away, his face hiding something. "Nothing," he answers, and rolls out of the garage. I bite back my curiousity and let us lapse into silence.

Before I started taking public transport, Mum used to always blast the radio on high volume, stringing in hippie tunes as the two of us sang along, delving back into decades she had lived through. On the contrary, Baekhyun's car provided no music of such, not even talk broadcasts. This being my first time in his car, I am in no such place to ask for music. I'm not sure I would enjoy Baekhyun's taste of music, if he has one anyway.

Stopped at a traffic light, Baekhyun drums his fingers at the wheel. "So, tutor, how am I doing? Great or brilliant?"

I stare at him as if he's never been more dense in his life. "Have you seen yourself in that last hour?"

Baekhyun frowns, taking a moment to contemplate. "Other than the fact that I was so handsome and striking?" This sounds frightenly similar to something Kai would say, and for a moment I question if Kai is lurking somewhere to slip Baekhyun these arrogant questions.

"I've passed by a few mirrors in your house. Either you don't have eyes or you need to get them checked."

"Your staring didn't seem to suggest that."

I whip my eyes to him, hands clutching my bag. Was I staring that much? And how did he even notice? I was sure to sneak glances when he had his head down.

Baekhyun chuckles, his grin seeming to say, And you still can't stop staring. I vow to not look at him for the rest of the ride.

We pull up in my driveway. I can already imagine Mum squinting through the blinds at the dubious high-end vehicle. I wonder how she would react if I explained that my driver was Byun Baekhyun.

"Thanks for dropping me home," I say.

Baekhyun simply nods, one hand resting on the steering wheel. Rather awkwardly, I duck out of the car, concentrating on keeping my gaze from slipping through the dark windows and taking one last look at Baekhyun. I'll see him on Monday anyway, and pretty much every day after that, save Sundays. I push the lump of pressure surfacing as I turn towards my house back down my throat. Baekhyun doesn't drive away until I click the front door shut.