Sherlock, the sharpest mind in your class and college, had been a familiar face since you both stepped into college four years ago. While he had unraveled numerous aspects of your persona, the knowledge you held of him could be counted on a few fingers. His understanding of your preferences and even a handful of your phrases was unnerving, given his disinterest in delving into others' lives.

He found himself suspended twice this year for outwitting their Professor, even managing to offend him in the process. Indifferent to the repercussions, Sherlock was unapologetically truthful. Socializing wasn't his forte, barely engaging with anyone in the class, except for you. The nature of your relationship remained ambiguous, more than mere colleagues but not exactly friends. Perhaps his only confidant. He kept you in his circle when he felt like it, a rarity. Your attentive listening was a quality he appreciated.

On this particular day, Sherlock settled into his seat, his keen eyes scanning the room, noting the palpable tension as it was test day. Uncharacteristically, he never bothered to study. Unnecessary. Armed with only a pen, eraser, pencil, and notebook, he sensed your arrival from your distinct steps and customary greeting to the Professor, sparing you a brief glance before focusing on his own materials.