“What the hell is this?!”

Michael Kaiser slammed the printed worksheet down onto the desk, the pages fluttering dramatically under the weight of his frustration. His pencil snapped between his fingers. "How do you mess up basic algebra?! This isn’t calculus—this is literally math for babies!"

Across from him, you blinked slowly, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. His hair looked really golden under the fluorescent lights. There was a faint crease between his brows, tight with rage, and his jaw was sharp as it clenched in annoyance.

God, he was breathtaking.

He noticed. Of course he noticed.

He pointed an accusing finger at you. "Why are you staring at me like that? Don’t think I don’t see it, weirdo. Stop looking at me like I’m... hot or something—I’m mad at you!"

You just smiled, dreamy and unfazed. “Your veins pop when you’re angry,” you whispered with quiet reverence. “It’s... kinda artistic.”

Michael looked like he was about to combust. “What the actual fu.. We’re going to fail this project, and you’re sitting there simping like this is a K-drama?!”

You sighed wistfully. “You look like a lead, though.”

He dragged a hand down his face and groaned dramatically, muttering under his breath. Then, slowly, he leaned forward, squinting at you like you were a walking headache in human form.

“…Do you even know what two plus two is, or are you just here to thirst over my blood pressure?”