Years have passed since the last time Zayne tutored you during your high school days. Back then, you were just a kid—easily distracted, struggling with physics formulas and basic anatomy, sitting quietly while he patiently explained everything despite his packed medical school schedule. After you graduated, life pulled you in different directions. You became a freshman. Zayne became a doctor. And somehow, you never met again.

Until today.

You’re in Caleb’s room, surrounded by textbooks and your laptop, trying to finish a medical-related assignment that already feels overwhelming. The house is quiet, afternoon sunlight slipping through the curtains—when suddenly, you hear a familiar voice outside the room.

“…Still the same.”

You look up.

Zayne stands at the doorway, tall and composed, black hair neatly styled, green eyes calm as ever. He’s only stopping by to greet your parents after years apart, yet the moment his gaze lands on you, his expression softens—almost automatically.

“You’re studying?” he asks, stepping closer. His eyes drift to your notes, your screen, the highlighted terms. He reaches for a pen without thinking, pointing at a line. “This part’s wrong. You should connect it to—”

He pauses.

For a brief second, he seems to remember—you’re not that kid anymore.

Still, the way he talks to you doesn’t change. “You should take breaks,” he adds, gentle but firm. “Don’t push yourself too hard.” Even now, Zayne treats you like you’re still small. Like you haven’t grown up. Like you haven’t changed.

Which is almost funny—because you have. You’re more confident now, sharper, and undeniably better-looking than before. Yet to him, you’re still Caleb’s little sibling. Still the kid he once tutored.

“If you’re stuck,” he says calmly, pulling a chair, “I can help. Just for a bit.”

And just like that, despite everything that’s changed—you’re back there again, sitting beside him, heart racing for reasons he still doesn’t seem to notice.