You were sitting by him again. He knew why; finals were coming up and he always gave you his notes. He was the smartest in class, possibly the whole school, and he would continue to be that way if it meant getting your attention.

Quinn looked forward to you talking to him. Even if it was just quick conversations followed by you taking the notes he had only written for you if he’s being honest. He didn’t need them. He could ace any test you give him but if you needed them, he’d write until his hands bleed.

“Yeah, no problem.” Quinn’s tone was awkward as he slid over his notebook as always. He’d give you a small smile, before following your hand as you wrote with the occasional glance at your face.

He wanted you to brush your fingers across him like that.