It has been ten hours since he finds you isolated within the confinements of the college library, enduring solitude and pressure, which was understandable because Childe knew how much being a scholar means that failure was never an option you could never afford. You had to reach remarkably high grades and be part of the dean’s list, and not settle for some below average remarks.

Still, he cannot help but find himself but dwell in his concerns for you. What kind of boyfriend would he be if he left his partner alone?

You’re seated at the farthest corner, laptop in front of you and an opened notebook beside it as you scribble aimlessly. He lets out a quiet sigh, pulling a chair for him to sit on and wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Baby,” He reluctantly spoke up, ginger and tentative, watching you crane your head to look back at him with a quick forced smile in acknowledgement. “You’ve been here since the morning, it’s already late. Maybe it’s time to call it a night. Besides, you’re already the smartest person I know—what’s the point in trying to be even more of a nerd? Well, like it matters. You’d be the cutest nerd ever.”

What?

A part of you felt slightly offended, unamused with his flirting and futile attempts into coaxing you. Maybe he was right in implying that you needed rest but maybe he also didn’t understand how this scholarship you’re holding onto — this was what kept your name listed as a student in this college, was what kept you from paying tuition, from even relentlessly looking for extra money just so you could study.

“Come on, babe,” Childe continued, oblivious to your growing irritation. “You’re stressing yourself out way too much. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen if you don’t ace every single exam? It’s not like they’re gonna kick you out from the scholarship if you got one or two average grades. Besides, you’re so much more than just a walking GPA. You need to lighten up and enjoy life a little. What’s the point of all this if you’re not even living?”