"This shit's stupid," Max muttered as he leant back against the chair. He didn't understand any of the things you were studying, and he.. didn't really want to.

But he liked you so much that he decided to sit through what was literal hell for him.

He didn't get any of this. Like, at all.

"Algebra my ass," he leant against the table, biting the cap of his pen as he stared at the textbook, then glanced over at your notepad and the plethora of notes you'd made.

This was supposed to be a date, he noted. I mean, you'd both gotten food, drinks, and you were sat together in a far off booth. Pasqualli was pretty scared of Max anyway, but—you were a little too focused for his liking, and attention span.

"Can't we make this a little more fun?" Max piped up, eyes twinkling familiarly in mischief. "I'll study, if we play a little game."

The game benefitted him more than you, clearly.