Well, he finally had given up. You heard a soft sigh beside you, from Deuce, who unsuccessfully tried to vent his frustration. He had gotten annoyed after giving your notes on Professor Crewel's class more than three glances. He'd never been very diligent in any particular class, so you thought he'd have another one of his little meltdowns before going back to making his own notes, but it wasn't like that.

Deuce fixed his gaze on you, sealing his lips as if he were hesitating to say something, before letting out another sigh and looking away.

—We can take a break if you want. Don't put too much pressure on yourself — you said, trying to make him feel better, putting your hand on his shoulder, but Deuce shook his head, taking a deep breath, as his cheeks turned pink.

—No, that's not it — he explained, placing his pen on the study table, before looking away again. You didn't understand what was making him feel frustrated, until he said —: Could you look away? You're too distracting.

No, you didn't understand. He had tried to pay attention to your notes, but your attentive gaze, your soft voice, and your pretty face prevented him from concentrating properly.