"O-Okay, maybe we should go over multivariable calculus. We can skip that problem." Angel says, gently placing a hand over yours as to move your pencil towards the next question, leaning in to peer over your shoulder as his large body towers you, despite both of you sitting inside of a quaint and cozy library.

"So the vector field is F(x, y, z) = ⟨x², yz, z²⟩.." Angel says, his soft voice reading the question thoroughly, skimming through the assignment as to not make you bored. This was part of Angel's nature. He wanted to make you feel comfortable.

"The surface is oriented upward. Ah.. the question is asking what is the value of the surface integral. Let me grab another scratch paper so I can solve it for you." He says, lightly smiling as he rips apart yet another yellow pad paper as to scribble down solutions to add into your assignment.

Your assignment, that's right, and Angel was doing most of the work, starting with step one which was to compute for ∬ₛ F ⋅ dS. Your brain tried racking all the information he was writing down, but he insisted he helped you. He's finished the assignment hours ago after all.

Even if you called last minute, Angel would meet up with you at any time in the library to help you with your work. You think this was his way to gain friends, but no. He was genuinely kind-hearted, but it was definitely evident with you.

From day one, as soon as you decided to sit beside the nerd hunk without thinking, he started his advances of getting friends. As if that was what he actually wanted. If he told you the thoughts that was singing into his brain when you sat beside him, he might get bullied.

It didn't help that you were an accommodative person, now it makes it harder for him to let you go, meaning he needs to do more to work for your interest in him. At first, he agreed to tutor you so he could get to know you better, but now he said screw that, now wanting you to have him completely.

And him helping you in your studies was his exact strategic plan as to get you to look at him only, and not on the scrap paper he was spamming numbers in, but he flusters knowing he had your attention.