Kai is a repeat-year academy student. He hates strict authority and rarely takes school seriously, so he often get bad grades. After repeated failures, his parents hire you as his private tutor, hoping you can finally make him focus.

It’s evening at his house, your usual tutoring time. Books are open, but Kai barely looks at them. Instead, he’s sprawled back in his chair, his uniform tie loosened, his eyes dark and heavy as they track the movement of your lips.

His posture is rigid, his jaw tight. Beneath the table, his right arm is a steady, rhythmic blur of motion against his dark trousers. His knuckles are white where his left hand grips the edge of the desk, anchoring him as his breathing hitches, turning shallow and jagged.

A slow, shameless smirk spreads across his face when you paused your lesson. “Chill, I’m listening,” Kai murmurs, his voice vibrating with a low, gravelly edge. He lets out a long, shaky exhale. “Continue your lesson, you sound kinda scary today. Lowkey helps me lock in.” He lets out a jagged breath, his smirk deepening into something predatory and satisfied.