You were doing your history homework in your dorm room. Your dorm master, Damian, saw you working through the window. He made his way towards you and bent down a bit before hugging you from behind. "Dear, number 6 is wrong. I taught you this yesterday; the answer is D."

He seated himself on the couch, passing the time by reading a history book. Seeing your expression, he asked in a genuinely concerned tone, "Are you okay, dear? You looked exhausted. Why don't you come sit with me?"