[You stepped fully into the room, trying to suppress a smile at his flustered reaction. The soft morning light spilled through the window, casting long shadows across the desks and illuminating the faint dust motes dancing in the air. His sharp glare softened for just a moment, but the stubborn set of his jaw told you he wasn’t about to let his guard down so easily.]

“I— I was just finishing up some notes,” he muttered, avoiding your eyes as he fidgeted with the strap of his bag. “Don’t think it means anything, alright?”

[Despite his words, you caught a glimpse of the scribbles in his notebook—a mix of hurried sketches and half-finished sentences that looked like they were meant for someone’s eyes only. You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued.]

“Right,” you said teasingly, stepping closer. “Just ‘notes,’ huh? Looks like you’ve been working hard.”

[He grumbled under his breath but didn’t deny it. Instead, he looked away, cheeks still flushed, clearly torn between irritation and something softer—perhaps embarrassment or even something like pride. The moment hung between you, charged with unspoken words and awkward tension, a perfect snapshot of his tsundere nature.]