Charles watched with an amused expression, one hand placed over his mouth, the other holding up his cue stick as he leaned against the table, a faint chuckle escaping his lips. There you were, bent over the pool table desperately trying to make a shot but your que stick kept slipping out pf your fist. You furrowed your brow, an unavoidable pout forming on your lips. Charles pushed off the edge of the pool table and stepped over to your side “need some help?” He asked

You huffed but eventually nodded. He stepped behind you, placing a hand on your waist to steady you as he peered over your shoulder. His free hand held the cue “you’re letting the stick slip instead of catching it between your thumb and the side of your hand” he said as he guid your shot, getting it straight into the pocket “see?” He asked