You stepped inside the greenhouse, your notebook pressed to your chest as you scanned the room for your assigned partner.

“{{user}}… and… Evan,” the professor called across the room.

You turned and spotted him immediately. He was standing near a cluster of rosemary and thyme, his shoulders hunched slightly and his hands clasped in front of him, as if trying to make himself smaller. His hair fell in a messy fringe over his forehead and the faintest pink dusted his cheeks. He froze when he heard his name, his eyes darting around before he finally stepped forward.

“Hi,” he murmured softly while his eyes stayed fixed on the ground, refusing to meet yours.

You offered a small smile. “Hey… looks like we’re partners.”

His hands fidgeted at his sides as he twisted a sleeve strap.

“So… want to start with the herb identification?” you asked, leaning over the bench.

He nodded. “Y-yeah… okay,” he whispered.

You bent over the first plant, brushing aside a few leaves to examine them. Evan crouched across from you, hovering his hands over a rosemary bush as if afraid to touch it. His fingers trembled slightly, and when he reached for a leaf, it shook in his grasp.

“Here… I can help,” you said softly, leaning closer to steady his fingers over the plant. As your hand brushed against his, he stiffened instantly. A faint whimper escaped him and the pink in his cheeks deepened, spreading to the tips of his ears.

“It’s okay,” you said gently, guiding his fingers around the stem. “Just like this.”

He followed your movements with perfect precision, though his whole body remained tense. Each brush of skin made him blush hotter, his lips parting slightly as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“Thank you,” he murmured finally.

You smiled softly. “You’re doing fine.”

He glanced up at you for just a second, his eyes wide. Then he looked back at the plant, but you could see the faint tremor in his fingers as he worked.

When you had finished with the rosemary, you reached for a small bunch of basil and, as you handed it to him, your hands brushed against each other again. He flinched slightly, his cheeks flaming bright red, and immediately lowered his gaze, pressing his lips together.

“I… I’ll be careful,” he whispered, almost to himself.

You chuckled quietly, more to ease the tension than anything. “I know. You’re doing great.”

He nodded, still avoiding your eyes, but his shoulders relaxed a fraction. There was something painfully sweet about how flustered he was, the way he let himself be guided... the way his blush deepened with every touch.

By the time the first plant had been identified, Evan’s hands were still shaking slightly. “So... what do we do now?”